


Magick

by Kim Gasper (mickeym)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Case Fic, F/F, F/M, First Time, M/M, Multi, PTSD, Rape, Rape Recovery, Romance, Satantic Themes, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-09-04
Updated: 1998-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 123,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/Kim%20Gasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair become involved in investigating a series of grotesque, ritualistic murders, each one occurring exactly one month after the last, involving a pair of men. The race is on to find the perpetrators before someone else becomes the next victim, and all they have are too many pieces of a puzzle that don't add up to a picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Novel-length story, originally published as a zine. This story contains references to satanic worship, non-con sex, and physical and mental torture.

Chapter 1

The gates of hell are open, night and day;  
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way.  
\--Virgil, _Aeneid_

Jim eased the truck into traffic, swearing silently at the long lines of cars waiting to exit the stadium. This happened every time he and Blair went to the game together; he always wanted to leave just before the quarter ended, Blair liked to stay until the final shot had been thrown. And they _always_ got caught in the heaviest part of the traffic.

"Next time, Sandburg, we're leaving early." Jim leveled a look at his partner, who eyed him back skeptically.

"You say that every time, Jim, and we end up staying."

"Because you talk me into it!"

Blair snorted with laughter. "That's because you're so easy to convince, man. Just say you want to leave--I'll go."

"Yeah, right." Jim moved his eyes from the traffic to Blair, and shook his head. Like he'd been in control at all for the last year and a half. Right. His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket, hoping it wasn't an official call. They'd worked late the last several nights to wrap up a particularly difficult case and this was the first evening they'd been off with a chance to relax. Even Blair, as energetic as he was, was beginning to show signs of wearing around the edges. "Ellison."

Blair sighed in resignation as Jim's face grew tight and grim. So much for an early evening at home and getting some extra rest. He watched Jim slam the phone shut, and switch on his emergency light. "Well?"

"Well what, Chief?"

Blair rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Are you gonna share that with me, or keep it to yourself all night? And if that's the case, would you just drop me by the loft? I have a pillow with my name written all over it."

Jim ignored him and turned the Expedition onto Mountaineer Boulevard. "Two DBs, and it's nasty, Simon said. Obvious homicide...with a few twists."

"Twists?"

"Simon wouldn't say on the phone. He says we have to see it to believe it."

Blair sat back with a thoughtful expression on his face. ***That*** didn't sound particularly reassuring. He knew his own experience was fairly limited, but Jim had a much broader background. If Simon thought that *Jim* would be surprised, well, what was he going to think?

They drove for several long minutes before Blair realized they were heading out of the city. "Where're we going?"

"Out by the nature center. Someone found the bodies inside one of the caves there."

"Great." Blair shuddered. This was just getting better and better by the minute. "You don't suppose Jack Walton's back in town, do you?"

Jim shook his head absently. "No, Walton's gone--unfortunately." The hard features on his face grew tauter with his memory of the serial killer who'd given them all the slip at the last minute. "No, from what Simon said, this has a different...flavor...to it."

Blair groaned silently. Trust Jim to use the word 'flavor' in a sentence combined with serial killers and murdered people. He shivered.

Beside him the taciturn detective watched him through hooded eyes, wondering again why his partner chose to stay with him through things like this. Not that he wasn't grateful, but he didn't get it. Ellison shrugged mentally and turned the truck onto the small two-lane road that would take them to the Nature Center and Land Preservation.

* * *

One look at the bodies lying in a twisted perversion of a lover's embrace, bright red splotches of blood spattered everywhere, had been all it took. Blair whirled around, his face gone white at the sight.

"I'm think I'm gonna be sick, man." It was a harsh whisper as Blair closed his eyes, trying to push the nausea down.

"Just do it outside in the bushes, Sandburg." Jim's lips were tight and his jaw clenched, though his tone was not unsympathetic. Blair opened his eyes and shot him a dirty look, but doggedly stayed by his side, if falling back a little.

Jim wasn't feeling so hot himself. In all his years in law enforcement, both military and civilian, he'd never seen anything quite so...so... Yeah. He didn't even have the words to describe how badly it affected him. Ritual murders were one thing; this was in a whole other category all to itself. He'd never seen mutilation carried quite so far.

The bodies were in a small cave, fed by a quiet underground spring. There was very little natural light in here, save for the moonlight that came through in small pieces through a hole in the ceiling of the cave. When Jim and Blair had walked onto the scene, Captain Simon Banks and Detective Henri Brown were already there. Banks was barking out orders about setting up some lights so the forensics and coroner's teams could see what they were doing, and Brown was overseeing the placement so as not to disturb the crime scene.

There were two bodies. From the angle Jim had to start with, it appeared they were both male, and both Caucasian. One was larger than the other, nearly to the same sizes as he and Sandburg. As that odd thought drifted through his head, Jim looked around to see if his partner had left to throw up. He hadn't meant to be so snappish with the younger man, but this was--weird. Eerie. It was no great surprise to see Blair standing next to and just behind him; he hadn't registered any change in the proximity of the heartbeat and scents that he knew as well as his own.

"Hey, Sandburg. You okay, Chief?" He turned toward the younger man, noting the rapid rise-and-fall of his chest, along with the almost violent paleness of his skin, and placed a strangely gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Yeah," the grad student whispered. "It's just--_gross_, man," he offered. "Look at 'em!"

Jim nodded a silent agreement. They didn't often get bodies this mutilated. They were going to be a bitch to ID, too. Judging from their natural state, he doubted they would find wallets lying around with identification handy. Ellison closed his eyes for a moment against the influx of imagery of comparing fingerprints to computer printouts, and pouring over missing-persons reports. He sighed and looked around wearily.

The forensics tech finished taking his pictures and waved Ellison over. He walked around the bodies, trying to get a feel for them without disturbing them just yet. Something wasn't right, here, though. He took a deep breath, gagging at the sudden rush and strength of the blood scent.

"Dial down, Jim," Blair murmured in his ear, suddenly _right__there_ next to him. "Easy does it, man; it's all the blood, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jim choked, breathing shallowly, trying to tune down the scent. He shuddered. "There's something about it, though. It's not a normal blood smell."

"Do you recognize it?"

"Yeah, but it's very faint. I'm having a hard time placing it."

"Give it time--it'll come to you." Blair patted his arm, then stepped back out of the way again.

"Jim!" Simon headed over toward them, an unknown man hot on his heels. "Didn't see you when you came in." He gestured toward the ground. "Nice, huh."

"I think there's some seriously sick individual loose, Captain." Jim knelt down next to the corpses. "I'd like to move them now, see what we can see."

The young man who followed Simon over was introduced as Paul Shiffer; he was the new forensics technician who'd replaced Sam. He appeared young and fresh and looked totally out of place in this grim setting.

"I doubt you're going to be able to tell much out here, Detective," Shiffer spoke up at Jim's request, "but I'll have the bodies back to Cascade and to the Medical Examiner this evening, if you want to sit in on the autopsy."

Jim felt Blair shudder behind him, the change in air currents alerting him to the spasms wracking his friend's body. _Poor kid, he's never gonna get used to this part of it._ "Yeah, I want the autopsy done tonight. And I want your guys to go over this cave with a fine-toothed comb, Shiffer. There's something very odd about this whole thing."

Paul glanced at his notebook, then down at the two bodies. The coroner's carts were being held nearby, ready to move the bodies once the police had a good look at the crime scene. He nodded to the detective, then turned and gestured to the two men from the coroner's office. "Let's get these bodies shifted and get some more pictures," he called. To Jim he added, "We already have several rolls like this, but Captain Banks figured you'd want to see them as they were found."

"Damn right." Jim watched as the larger corpse was rolled off the smaller one, noting once again how similar in size these two were to him and Sandburg. The heat his smaller partner was throwing was warming his side furiously and he found himself wondering idly how that heat would feel applied to other areas. He cut his own thoughts off, not sure he liked the direction they were wandering in. _Where in the hell is this coming from?_ He wondered. _It's one thing to have the odd, occasional daydream about the kid, but to start thinking real thoughts--_. He shook his head to clear it and to bring his attention back to the case at hand.

"Who found them?" he heard his partner asking.

"Couple of hikers who were going to spend the night out of the wind," Banks was replying. "They figured they'd spend the night inside the cave, but changed their minds quickly when they saw our friends here." He gestured sardonically at the two bodies.

The other two men followed his gesture and the three seemed to register at the same time the degree of mutilation present. Both men appeared to have had their throats cut. There were deep-looking, vicious cuts to the chest, with the nipples on both missing. The abdominal area was a mess, appearing as an open cavity with nothing left in the yawning, empty space. One of the bodies was missing a hand. Blair followed the line of the body closest to him, blanched even whiter and wavered on his feet. Jim followed his gaze and looked down, then shivered himself.

"Castrated?" he asked finally, all three of them looking down. Shiffer knelt next to the larger corpse.

"Nope. Sexual mutilation. All the genitalia has been removed, from both."

Blair blanched again, but asked, "Is it, um, are the parts--around?"

Paul probed around the bodies carefully, checking inside the mouths and open abdominal cavities, his gloved hands quickly stained red. "No. They're not here, at any rate, and it looks as though most of the other organs have been removed as well."

Jim turned to watch his partner. "What's on your mind, Chief?"

"Well," Blair rocked on the balls of his feet, his eyes firing as he moved into 'lecture mode'. "In a lot of primitive tribes, the elders would sometimes order castration or mutilation of a sex offender. If he's also killed, like raped and murdered a woman, then as further retribution the organs are placed in the offender's mouth and he's left to die slowly from choking and blood loss. The Tartars also used to practice it a lot, on their captives in battle." Blair added helpfully.

Simon shook his head. "Sandburg--"

"No, it's something to consider, Simon," Jim interrupted, looking thoughtfully at his partner. "We're going to need to keep all options open here. Though I can't see how _two_ men, lying in a lover's embrace, both mutilated, goes toward the sex offender theory, it's still something to keep in mind."

"It's your call," Simon said, watching both men.

Jim knelt next to the larger body. "Hey, angle that light over here," he called up to one of the techs standing behind him. He pulled on some gloves of his own and pulled one of the man's legs out. "There are carvings here," he said, surprise coloring his voice. "Grooves, or something. We need some pictures of this," he added to Paul and his technician. "Close-ups." He skimmed his fingers along the leg, noting that there were scars there. Recent scars, given the thickness of the tissue. "He's been cut, purposefully, it looks like. There's a pattern to the scarring."

Paul leaned in closer to take a look. "You're right!" he said, staring at the leg in front of him. He traced the pattern with his own fingers, following the same path Jim's had taken.

"There's none on this guy's legs...just on the bigger one." Jim had moved around and was checking out the other body.

"Chief, c'mere and take a look." Jim's voice was apologetic, knowing his friend wasn't going to want to look that closely at the murdered men.

"What?" The smaller man drew nearer, kneeling beside Jim. For just a moment the detective let himself get lost in the light, clean aroma that made up part of Blair's scent, then he looked at Blair.

"You know anything about ritual carvings?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'ritual', and who's involved." Blair frowned at the bigger man.

"Take a look here." He showed Blair the scar tissue, the pattern it was in. Blair shook his head.

"No, man, never seen anything like it before. But get some pictures of it, and I'll see what I can find on the 'net."

Jim backed away while Paul took some more pictures of the carvings, watching as Blair moved away, then around the bodies.

"You know that these are pentagrams, right?" Blair had scooted closer to the heads of the men, though he was taking extreme caution in not looking at them. He glanced up at the three men around him and moved backward hastily. "Inverted pentagrams. Wow--major bad karma."

"Meaning?" Jim was frowning at the five-point stars inside circles.

"Meaning, whoever drew these was using them for black magic purposes, which would probably figure in nicely with ritual carvings, like on the bigger guy's leg."

"Sandburg--what the hell are you talking about?" Banks chomped down on his cigar, fixing the young anthropologist with a glare.

"A pentagram, in theory, represents God, or man, added to the physical universe; it's a symbol of the divine power that man has over that universe. But inverted, or reversed, it's a symbol of the Devil and used to call evil forces."

Jim raised an eyebrow at him and Simon stared like he'd gone crazy. "You're kidding, right? Sandburg, what kind of nonsense is this?"

Blair shook his head. "It's not nonsense, Captain--not to those who believe in it. I'm not saying _I_ believe, just that that's what I've read."

"Great," Banks muttered. "Now we're not only dealing with a multiple murder, but with a _weird_ multiple murderer."

"Cascade's never dull," Blair whispered under his breath.

Jim snorted at his friend.

* * *

It was a short time later, during a step-by-step examination of the cave, that Jim discovered the missing hand, as well as the message, left for them presumably from the killer.

"Sandburg!" Blair had been lagging behind Jim, watching the older man follow the blood scent, hoping he wasn't going to lose what was left of dinner when Jim found the source for the latest wandering. The cave was proving to be larger than they'd originally believed, with a stone formation in another, connected cave, that they'd missed the first time through.

"I'm coming, Jim." He turned and headed toward his partner's voice. _This is gonna be a fun one. Maybe I can get called out of the country for the next week or two_.

"Chief?"

"Here, Jim." He turned around a stone outcropping and ran into the larger man, a startled "Oomph!" coming from both. Blair pushed himself back quickly, trying to ignore the flash of heat that ran through his body with the unexpected contact.

"Check it out. It's really starting to cement the satanic angle." Jim gestured above, then to the floor of the cave in front of them. "It looks almost like the hand was used as a paintbrush. Shiffer!" Jim raised his voice to call to the forensics man, then turned to look at his partner.

Blair was still staring dumbly at the hand, and felt a twinge of shock race through him when Jim reached his own gloved hand out poke gingerly at the severed limb. A hand as a paintbrush? Ewww! He looked up at the wall of the cave and the words were there, written in blood:

**HE IS COMING PREPARE FOR DARKNESS**

Jim stepped over to the wall, and sniffed deeply. It was definitely blood; no mistaking it for anything else. There was something else though, a different scent--the scent he'd noticed earlier. Not quite blood, but changed somehow. He thought he recognized it, but it was so faint as to be elusive. _What the hell was it?_

Paul and Simon had followed Jim's voice, heading for the tall detective. They stopped short when they saw the message painted on the side of the cave.

"Shiffer, I'm gonna need you to get me a scraping of this--we need to match it against the victim's blood. And I want you to check for anything--unusual. Like mixed types, or something. I think that this," Jim pointed at the severed hand, "was used to write the message. Be sure you get us fingerprints; we're going to need everything we can to ID our John Does."

Jim paced around the cave for a few more minutes, but found nothing else to clue them in to the murderers or intent, or anything else. The John Does were zipped into body bags and loaded into the Coroner's wagon to be transported back to the Cascade police department's basement lab and clinic.

He found his partner and captain talking to Shiffer as he finished his last walk of the area. "I didn't find anything else," he said, catching Banks' eye. "I think I'll come back here tomorrow morning; see how things look in the light of day."

"Good idea," Simon responded, his face drooping with fatigue. "You going back for the autopsy?"

"Yeah." Jim darted his eyes over toward Sandburg. The younger man was standing beside him, arms folded across his chest in a "stay-away" gesture. "Chief, I can drop you by the loft on my way to the station."

"No way, man. I'll come along with you--you'll get the paperwork done a lot faster."

Jim frowned, though inwardly he was bouncing happily. He checked his watch. "It's after eleven, Sandburg."

"That's cool, Jim. I don't have any classes to teach or attend tomorrow; just police work to keep me busy and happy."

The sarcasm was gentle, more of a teasing, and Jim took it in stride with some of his own. "Fine--you want to torture yourself, who am I to argue? Just remember this when I'm trying to roll your ass out of bed tomorrow at six in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah." Blair turned back toward the mouth of the cave, eyeing the nighttime sky out there. He wanted nothing more than to get out of here, as quickly as possible.

Banks cut in then, anxious to wrap up and get home. "You go in tonight for the autopsy, Jim, come on in later in the morning. Hell, drive back out here first, if you want." The large man threw a concerned look toward Blair, then shrugged at the answering look in Jim's eyes. "You guys take it easy, tonight," he said, then moved off toward his car.

"Night, Simon," Jim muttered, his gaze drawn once again toward Blair. "Ready to go, Chief?"

"Man, am I ever." Blair followed Jim gratefully back to the truck, eager to be gone from this place. There was something very weird about these murders, something very creepy.

* * *

Chapter 2

"Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven."  
\--Milton, _Paradise Lost_

 

"Both male, both Caucasian; most likely mid-to-late 20s, given their apparent state of health and fitness. Both men have been eviscerated and most of the internal organs are missing. Actual cause of death I'm stating as exsanguination--probably during the organ removal." Dr. Wolfe moved back and forth between the two tables, cataloguing for Ellison and Sandburg as he went.

"This one," he gestured to his right where the larger Doe lay, "has had multiple injections of something. You can see the faint bruising and pin-point where the needles were inserted." He held up the arm of the corpse and pointed to several spots. "We're running a toxicology report right now; we should have the results of that in a few hours. Fortunately, the liver was one of the organs still intact and we ought to be able to get a pretty good work-up from it. The lab is also running a screen on the blood samples that were brought in."

Blair leaned his head back against the cool tile of the examination room, praying for this to end soon. He was holding up better than he thought he would, given the circumstances, but he could still feel the sweat beading his upper lip. How long did it take to cut and examine a couple of dead bodies? His stomach rolled at the rather vivid picture that thought provided, and he closed his eyes, forcing it to calm down. _How can Jim say he's used to this--that I'll get used to it? I won't get used to this if I live to be a hundred!_

Jim watched the ME move through his paces while at the same time keeping a watchful eye on his partner. Blair's face was several shades paler than he was comfortable with, and even from across the room he could see the sweat beading his upper lip. An unbidden urge rose up in him to cross the room and lick the sweat from there--_Jesus Christ, Ellison! Get a grip, man._ He settled for moving himself to stand close to the younger man, hoping to offer some comfort from his presence.

"Hey, what do we have here?" Dr. Wolfe's mutterings cut into his thoughts and Jim forced himself to move back over by the coroner.

"What?"

"Here," Wolfe shifted the body and pointed to the anal passage. "This guy's experienced some seriously rough anal penetration in the recent past. Multiple times, it looks like, judging from the scar tissue in the rectum. It's very new, so he's only healed recently."

"What, you mean like rape?" Blair stirred himself from the doorway, his expressive eyes meeting Jim's and communicating what he thought about all this.

"Blair. Geez, man, forgot you were in here, you've been so quiet. Yeah, I suppose rape is a possibility, although there are men who like rough sex--and it's not a rape situation."

"Does he have marks anywhere else that would indicate if he liked to play rough games?" Jim leaned over the corpse. "You know--like maybe sex games that got out of hand?"

Wolfe shook his head. "I didn't see anything indicative of that. He's got a few bruises on his legs, but that's not uncommon in keeping with the rough sex angle." He shook his head again. "I'd be able to tell you more if the body wasn't in such bad condition."

"Hey, we appreciate anything you can give us." Jim moved back up to the head of the body. "So we have two men, one of whom has experienced _rough_ anal sex recently; one of whom has numerous markings on his body indicating drug-use of some sort--we don't know at this point if it was voluntary or not--and both are mutilated badly. Hey, Doc, were you able to make anything of the markings on the guy's legs?" Jim gestured toward their larger Doe.

"I'm inclined to agree with you that they're some sort of ritualistic pattern, but I'd be at a loss as to what." The doctor pulled his gloves off and took a drink. "I'll have the results of the rest of the autopsy in an hour or two--you planning on hanging around, or should I just send the report up to your desk?"

"Have it sent up--we have to get the paperwork started now." Jim headed toward the door, catching Blair's look of relief as it swept across his face.

"Right. See you later." The ME was already moving back toward the tables as the two men left the room.

* * *

"Well, that was, like, _not_ fun," Blair stated as they waited for the elevator. "Man, this is some weird shit here," he continued. "You're talking rituals and drug use, rough sex...Jim, what the hell is going on here?"

Ellison shook his head, as confused by it all as his partner. "I don't know, Chief. We've got more pieces now than I know what to do with, and none of them are looking to add up and give me a whole picture."

"Think you'll be able to ID the bodies?" Blair followed Jim onto the elevator and breathed a deep sigh of relief as the clinical smells of the basement were left behind.

"Dunno. Depends of if either of them have any cause to have been fingerprinted in the past." Jim gently pushed Blair out of the elevator when it stopped, steering him toward his desk. "Want some coffee before we get started?"

"I'll get it, man. You go on--I can hear those forms calling your name."

"I thought I was the Sentinel here, Chief."

"Not for paperwork, Jim. Anyone close enough can hear that." Blair's eyes were still clouded by concern, but his smile was true to form: blazing bright enough to sub for light bulbs. Jim returned the smile and headed for his desk, beginning to believe _he_ could hear the forms calling him.

* * *

Three hours later they were hip-deep in lab analyses, reports and photos.

The close-up pictures of the bodies were as horrifying now as the real thing had been six or so hours ago, and Blair felt the stirrings of hunger he'd had disappear completely. Even Jim was sitting there looking pretty grim, and he was a lot more inured to this than Blair was.

"Man, this is like a recipe for madness," Blair glanced up at Jim before returning to his reading. "Have you read the toxicology reports on Doe One?"

"Huh-uh. What's up with them?"

"Bad news, big guy. Pure and simple as that." Blair began reciting the list in front of him. "They found traces of henbane, mandrake, stromonium and belladonna, as well as some substances that typed as damiana and yohimbe in his liver. The first four are like, _mega_-hallucinogens, not to mention deadly as hell if too much is ingested; the other two I don't have a clue about, and it's not listed in this report. Well, wait." Blair paused and Jim watched his friend's lips moving rapidly as he read the rest of the report quickly to him. "Okay. The damiana is a stimulant and mild aphrodisiac.

"The other...yohimbe...is also a stimulant and a mild hallucinogen. It also says here that it's used as an aphrodisiac." Blair reached for his pen and made a question mark next to it, then moved on. "There were no traces of the chemicals in Doe Two's system, but the report says that doesn't mean that nothing was there, just that they weren't able to identify anything. Oh, and Wolfe has a comment on here that Doe Two's liver was missing, which was the main reason they couldn't identify anything. I guess the liver stores that stuff, huh?"

"Guess so." Jim leaned back in his chair. "What else?"

"Uh" Blair scanned the report, then turned the pages, reading quickly. "The blood--oh, man." He began reading silently, moving his lips again. Jim leaned forward in consternation.

"What? What is it?"

"The thing that you couldn't identify for sure, 'cause it was too faint? The scent?"

"Yeah?"

"Menstrual fluid. The scrapings taken from the side of the cave wall contained blood from both John Does, as well as menstrual fluid from an unknown source. That blood type did not correspond with either of the bodies found." Blair made a face as he handed the report to Jim. "Man, that is, like, way gross."

Jim took the folder, silently agreeing with his partner. _This is getting weirder and weirder by the minute._ "Got any theories for me on that one?"

"What, on the menstrual fluid mixed in with the blood?" Blair waited for Jim's nod before continuing. "I always have theories, Jim--you know that. In this case, I want to think about it for a little while, okay? There're a lot of pieces to consider here."

"Agreed." Jim leaned back further in his chair and stretched, the feeling of tightening and loosening his muscles suddenly an intensely sensual one with Blair's eyes trained on him. "What?"

"Just wondering if we could quit this place for a few hours. My eyes are starting to feel like sandpaper."

Jim nodded. "Mine too. Yeah, let's go on home, sleep on it all for a few hours, then see if we can't put some of the pieces together into a coherent picture." He stood up and stretched again, grinning when Blair echoed his motions. "C'mon, Chief."

"You don't have to tell me twice, man. I'm with you." Blair grabbed his jacket and followed the bigger man out of the office.

* * *

"Get the lead out, Chief," Jim rapped on the French doors once again. "We need to get out to the Nature Center, like pronto."

"I'm comin', man, keep your shorts on." Blair stalked out of his room about a half-minute later, glaring balefully at Jim. "Geez, I was up, already. What're you so hot to get out there for, anyway?" _And why do you look so good, standing there in jeans and a tee shirt?_ The younger man sighed with the last thought; lately he'd been having thoughts like this, little skitterings of desire racing through him. When he'd started to turn on to his roommate he couldn't say for certain, but he was positive it wasn't something he should focus on.

"Crime scenes always look different in the light; we might find something this morning that we missed last night."

"Swell." Blair swallowed some coffee, grimaced when he realized he'd forgotten sugar, and headed for the sweetener. "What are we looking for, exactly?"

"Anything. Nothing. I don't know." Jim shrugged and drained his own cup. "You want breakfast before we head out?"

"Nah, I don't think I'm quite up to eating yet."

"You can't let this totally rule your life, Chief." Ellison stared at his partner in concern.

"I'm not, man. One missed meal isn't going to kill me." Blair patted his lean stomach. "I'm just feeling kind of weird from everything, Jim. Lack of sleep, the murders, all the weird shit we were reading and finding last night. Give me time, okay, big guy? If I'm not eating in a week, you can get worried."

"Smart ass," Jim mumbled as he grabbed his keys.

"Takes one to know one," Blair shot back flippantly, grabbing his backpack and a large book as he followed Jim out the door.

Once in the Expedition and safely on the road to the nature preserve, Blair put his glasses on and flipped open his book.

"Whatcha got there, Sandburg?"

The grad student took a minute to thumb through the pages before answering. "Well, you asked me last night about theories on the menstrual fluid thing, so I thought I'd check some stuff out here."

"What is that?" Jim regarded the large book from the corner of his eye, thinking that the Cascade Yellow Pages wasn't that large.

"Mmm--reference book. Has a lot of information on ancient, primitive rituals and tribal beliefs and customs and such." He paged more slowly now, and Jim let a small smile out when he watched Sandburg's lips moving. _I bet he's not even aware he does that,_ he thought, eyes dividing their focus between the road and the full, sensual lips of his partner. _Why's he have to be so damn sexy? I could have gone the rest of my life without having this sort of problem come up. Again._ The 'problem' of course being an attraction to another man, in a world that didn't deal kindly with same-sex relationships. He continued to watch the man surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye while his partner read.

"Well," Blair began finally, in what Jim recognized as his 'teacher' voice, "there are a lot of possibilities in here. The gist of it though, is that in ancient civilizations, women were considered to be most powerful during their menses. Something about their body's ability to lose blood through no recognizable wound, as well as a blood-loss that didn't render them unconscious, ill or dead. Anyway, a lot of primitive societies would send the women away from the tribe, or clan, or whatever, during their cycle; often they wouldn't be allowed to touch anything that a man might touch, or eat, or whatever. No contact with the males of the society.

"Furthermore, according to the book, women were feared for their ability to bring life into themselves--conception, y'know?--and when they got their periods, then it was seen as the woman's spirit casting out the man's spirit, or overcoming it, or whatever. So it made men nervous and they began to take the precautions of sending women away during those cycles. So the blood of the menstrual cycle would be potent for magical workings, because it held the power of the spirits, especially those that weren't normally overcome easily."

Jim eyed Blair skeptically. "So, Teach, can I have the translation?"

"Man, you brawny jock-types." The smaller man shook his head playfully. "Translation, Jim, is that ancients used to think there was power in a woman; power that was magnified when she had her period. There's reason to believe then, that whoever is behind our murders believes that also, since there was menstrual fluid mixed in with the blood. That indicates a ceremony of some sort."

"Or else just messiness while doing the murders."

Blair rolled his eyes. "Believe it or not, man, there are some people who really do believe in this stuff. The fact that you've got pentagrams, ritual carvings that I still need to check against sources on the web, strange herbs that usually have ritual purposes, and menstrual fluid mixed in with blood that spelled out a message of coming doom." The anthropologist let his voice trail off purposefully. After a minute Jim flashed him a grin that was part amusement, part irritation.

"You're a pain in the butt sometimes, Sandburg, you know that?"

"Sure, man. But you know you love me for it." The younger man snapped the big book shut and leaned to stick it on the floor behind his seat. His hair brushed across Jim's bare arm and it was all the older man could do not to open his mouth in total agreement right then. Was it love? Or was he confusing love and desire? An image of Sandburg, last night, coming out of the shower before going to bed, flitted across his memory and Jim shifted nervously as his body tightened. Then the moment was past and Blair was eyeing him strangely, but not saying anything. Great. All he needed to have happen was to have Blair figure out that he was currently working through having the hots for him.

He was saved from having to answer the questions he knew were in those incredible blue eyes by the turn-off for the Nature Center. The guard they'd posted last night was still here; he waved them through when Jim flashed his badge.

* * *

Ellison and Sandburg returned to the precinct tired, irritable and unhappy. The revisit to the nature preserve had yielded nothing other than lost time, something neither man was happy about, given the amount of work and the missing pieces they still had in front of them. Jim snapped at Blair twice for no reason and the grad student had passed most of the return trip in a silence that, to Jim, was almost worse than his constant chatter.

The only good thing waiting for them when they returned was that the smaller of the two victims had been positively ID'd.

"Jason Rowan, age twenty-seven, single. He was arrested seven months ago for driving while under the influence and opted to go to the counseling sessions made available; hasn't had any problems since then. No wants or warrants." Simon read the file contents to Ellison and Sandburg, watched their reactions.

"Nothing on the other one?" Jim held his hand out for the file, which Simon handed him while shaking his head.

"No, sooner or later we'll get an ID on him, but meanwhile--" Banks broke off. "The thing the report doesn't note, and I wouldn't know it except that I okayed the release of the body, is that Rowan was gay. It was his boyfriend who came to pick up the body."

"You think that's related in some way?" Blair stared at the file, the man's age jumping out at him. Same age. Too young to die. _God, I'm sorry this sounds so awful, but I'm glad it was him, and not me_

"I don't know, Sandburg. Could be, or maybe not. There's simply no way of knowing, right now." The captain's voice was unusually curt, and Blair raised sympathetic eyes to the large man, understanding the motivation behind it. This thing was weird, and it had them all on edge.

Jim cleared his throat and turned toward the door. "Very good, Sir. Anything else?" At Simon's negative headshake he ushered his smaller partner out the door and toward his desk. Time to return to poring over labs and reports; see if they could find a common link in all of this that might give them specifics on their killer or killers.

* * *

"Hey, Jim...take a look at this." Blair leaned forward toward the computer, an edge of excitement in his voice.

"Find something, Chief?" Jim pushed the chair back and moved around to peer over Blair's shoulder. His partner was surfing the web, looking for a match on the markings on Doe One's legs and abdomen. Sandburg had been going at it for several hours now; long enough that Jim was certain his own eyes would have started to cross, had he been the one doing the search.

"Yeah, I think so. Hang on." Blair typed in a command, and the screen blinked then started forming a visual image. Blair sat back as the computer worked, waiting. Jim gave up standing behind him and perched on the edge of his desk.

"Okay, here it is." Blair moved the mouse and clicked on an image. Jim stared at it, trying to decide if he thought he recognized it.

"Yeah?" He gave up and asked anyway.

"Look at the photos, then look at the image, man. It's just like the design cut into Doe One's thigh."

"How do you know?" Jim asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I scanned the photo and loaded the image into the computer. Then I ran a search, looking for matches."

"Where'd you get the scanner?"

"Paul let me use the one down in the forensics lab." Blair bounced on his feet. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"And this is what it found," Jim looked at the computer picture. What he was seeing was an artistic rendition of it, but he had to admit it looked like the image in the photo. He picked the photo up to look at it closely, then held it up to the computer. "Okay, Sandburg. _What_ is it, though?"

Blair heard the weariness in his friend's voice, and shot him a look. This case was really wearing on him--Jim wasn't used to having so many pieces that refused to fit together. He had to admit it was beginning to bug him, too. "It's a sacrificial pattern."

"Sacrificial? As in, sacrificing something?"

Blair nodded and clicked on another image. "It's generally used in fertility rituals, according to the text."

"_Who_ generally uses it?"

Blair paused for a heartbeat. "Satanic cults are the most known for it."

"Jesus!"

"My thoughts exactly, man. Here, take a look at this." Blair zoomed in on the image, and Jim found himself looking at another picture of the ritualized markings.

"This one is different." Jim said in surprise. He peered closer. "I can see a difference between this one, and the cut in our John Doe."

"You can?" Blair asked, his voice rising in pitch. "That's great, 'cause I couldn't. These markings are used when the, uh, subject, I guess, is a woman. The text says that there are small differences between male and female. The person being cut is being offered up as a sacrifice for fertility--whether to ensure it, or become fertile, I don't know. I'll have to read a little further and see if it notes a difference." The younger man sat back and took his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Jim clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. "Good work, Chief. At least we have a direction we can move in now."

Blair watched Jim walk into Simon's office, and shuddered. Devil-worshippers and fertility rites. That was too scary to even contemplate. He returned to his reading, searching for more information that might help them find the killer or killers.

* * *

In the end, even Blair's identifying of the types of markings wasn't enough, and they slammed up against a dead-end.

They'd been working on the case for over a week with no new leads, no new information. Two men had died horrible, tortured deaths...and they were no closer to finding the killers than they'd been when they'd walked onto the scene. Simon was starting to get on Jim's case about it, and had already told him that if nothing new came up by then end of the work day he was going to mark the file closed, unsolved, and leave it until something showed up. He couldn't afford to keep Jim on a case that might never get solved when there were so many out there, waiting.

Ellison was tense all day, especially when several hours of driving around, checking out occult-interest shops panned out nothing. Blair had had classes that day, unable to get out of proctoring an exam for his Anthro 101 class as well as office hours. _Damn, just having him here with me would have made this a little bit better. Someone to talk to...someone to commiserate with me._ He was going to get the case pulled from him and that bugged him worse than anything--he hated not being able to solve a crime.

The day ended much the way it had begun--badly. It was raining out--something it seemed to do when he had a lot of driving to do--and cold to boot. He had one more occult shop he wanted to check out, certain that _one_ of them here in town _had_ to have the information he was seeking, if only he could get Simon to cooperate.

"No, Jim. It's not enough." His captain leaned back in his chair and watched his best detective pace the floor in front of him while he explained his thoughts and how he wanted to proceed. The look in Ellison's eyes when he said 'no' was enough to rouse his sympathies, but enough time had been spent on this. It was time to move on.

"But Sir, if you'll let me--" Jim hated leaving things undone, and this was eating at him.

"No. Look, Jim. I have thirteen unsolved cases sitting out there, waiting to be worked. _New _unsolved cases. Not ones that are a week old. Now I'm not saying that you can't continue to follow-up on leads if they come up...but this is no longer a priority. We weren't even able to ID one of the bodies, for God's sake. Drop it to the bottom of your roster."

Jim tightened his lips. "Yes, Sir."

He left Simon's office determined not to let this get to him.

* * *

Blair was equally dismayed, but optimistic. "Maybe something will turn up when we're not expecting it."

"Yeah, right. And next you'll be telling me you believe in Santa Claus."

"Hey, stranger things have happened, man. You know that. 'Expect the unexpected', right? Credo to live by."

"I think you've been watching too much 'X-Files', or something." Still, it was nice to have his partner sympathizing with him; he and Blair were too much in sync anymore for that to be unlikely to happen, but it was nice to have the actual words.

"There's no such a thing, my man."

So, life moved on. New cases were assigned and worked; some were solved, a few others went the way of the 'Cult Murders', so-called, since they had only the cultist-type clues to go on. Jim found himself settling down, getting back into the routine that had been disrupted by the intrusion of 'high-level weirdness', as Sandburg liked to call it. Once in a while he'd wonder if they'd heard the last from their cult killers.

* * *

Chapter 3

The Black Rider flung back his hood, and behold! he had a kingly crown;  
And yet upon no head visible was it set.  
The red fires shone between it  
And the mantled shoulders vast and dark.  
From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter.  
\--J.R.R. Tolkien, _The Lord of the Rings_

 

The phone rang, startling the slumbering occupants of the loft. Jim banged his toe on the couch as he ran for the phone, and stood there cursing for a moment before flipping it open. "Ellison!" He barked into the mouthpiece. Blair stood in the doorway to his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A quick glance at the clock showed it to be just after 2:00am. He sighed, thinking about the tests he still had to grade before class in the morning, and wondered when he'd ever get enough sleep. "Right. Be there in ten."

Blair straightened up expectantly. "Well?" Jim shot his partner a sympathetic look, and the younger man's stomach tightened up. "What?"

"We've got two more DBs, Chief. Same MO as the ones last month."

"Oh, man." Blair took a deep breath. "Lemme get dressed, Jim. It'll only take a second."

Jim stopped him with a hand on his arm, intensely conscious of the heat emanating from the soft skin beneath his. "You don't have to go, Blair."

Blair shrugged. "How bad could it be? I've been looking at the photos of the other ones for a month now." _And you should know by now that I could just as easily stop breathing as not go._

Jim nodded. "Hurry then--I told Simon we'd be there quick."

"Not back at the preserve then. Is it close?" Blair turned back into his room, and Jim headed for the stairs.

"Yeah," he called over his shoulder. "About six blocks from here."

Blair stopped in his tracks. Six blocks?! Jesus, that was practically next door!

* * *

These two were just as bad as the first ones; worse actually, because they were a lot fresher. They hadn't been there for very long; hadn't been dead for very long. Paul told them that the corpses were still fairly pliable; rigor mortis hadn't set in yet. That was it for Blair; he slapped his hand over his mouth and ran for the nearest tree. Jim watched his partner from the distance, bent over, shoulders heaving with the effort of bringing up nothing. He sighed, wondering why Blair hung around like this. He wondered sometimes why _he_ hung around. Stuff like this made him sick to his stomach too--mostly over his inability to keep it from happening at all.

"Okay, Shiffer. Give me the details. Same as before?"

"Almost identical, Detective. A few differences, but nothing radical enough to make me think it was someone different."

"Go ahead." Jim kept his eyes trained on Blair, waited to see if the younger man was going to be okay. His guide was leaning against the tree now, staring over toward the crime scene. Jim watched his gaze shift, tracking the movement of the officers covering the scene, as if looking for someone, then return to stare toward Jim. The bigger man sighed, then realized that he'd let his attention wander, and turned back to Shiffer. "Sorry, lost in thought there. Once again?"

"This body isn't quite as badly damaged as the others were; more of the internal organs seem to be intact this time. Well, hell--just _present_." Paul colored slightly and Jim waved his hand in a dismissive motion.

"I understand. Go on."

"Again, we have the missing limb, presumably somewhere close by." Paul shook his head. "The Captain has teams looking for it. This isn't as clean as the last scene was. Of course, the kids that found it could have scared off whoever was leaving the bodies--and they didn't have time to finish up properly."

Blair had wandered over just in time to hear the last part of Paul's comment to Jim, and shuddered, thinking about what could have happened to the kids who'd made the report, if they'd stumbled across the scene just a few minutes earlier and caught the killers actually there. "Are there any of the markings like last time?" He heard Jim's amused snort and jerked his head up. "Sorry, big guy," he murmured at sentinel level.

Paul nodded. "I was just getting to him." He indicated the bigger corpse.

"Now that we know what to look for Track marks matching the ones on the other body. We'll run a tox screen like last time, check for the substances we found before. There are carvings, markings, whatever we're calling them; they're the same, by the way." Paul glanced up to see Jim already crouched down beside the body, examining the man's thighs.

"Yeah, they are, aren't they." Jim stared at the image of the cuts, then pulled on some rubber gloves, prodding gently at the slowly stiffening tissue. "They're a little deeper than the last ones," he muttered, his fingers trailing slowly like he was reading Braille.

Paul stared at him in surprise. "How the hell can you tell that?"

"Um--Jim's got really sensitive fingers," Blair replied hastily for his partner, all the while fixing the Sentinel with a glare. Jim nodded, an 'I'm sorry' look in his eyes, aimed at his friend. He moved away from the bodies, toward the back of the alley they'd been found in. "Any of the ritual markings around? Pentagrams, or anything else?"

"We haven't seen any yet, but that doesn't mean they aren't around somewhere." Paul had moved back to the bodies to finish gathering blood and tissue samples. "Do you need any more pictures taken, Detective? We got several rolls of film, both in this pose, and as we found them."

"Were they like the last scene? Lying across each other?"

A nod. 'Yeah--looked like two guys who'd just, um, y'know. Slept together."

"In the biblical sense." Jim smiled grimly, eyes darting around for the body to match the heartbeat he could still hear--and probably could hear anywhere.

"Yeah." Paul flushed a little. "Sorry, it's--"

"Don't worry about it, Shiffer." Jim got to his feet and headed off toward where Blair was. He turned abruptly. "Do you know if someone's talking to those kids?"

Paul shrugged. "I imagine so. I--"

"Jim! We've got something over here!" Simon's voice, carrying above the noise of a preliminary investigation. Jim shot a glance toward where Blair had walked and gestured with his head. They moved toward the Captain, Paul trailing behind.

_This_ was where the bodies were supposed to have been laying, Jim decided. A large circle had been drawn, with two pentagrams outlined in chalk above one side, presumably meant to be the headstones, so to speak, of the victims, like last time. They found the hand lying nearby, and on the back of the building, in fresh blood were the words:

**THE DARKNESS WILL RISE SOON HE'S COMING**

Jim flinched at the strong odor of fresh blood assaulting his nostrils. There was something else here as well. It was the same as...Damn! It was the same smell as last time, the menstrual fluid. The blood had begun dripping down the wall, and the letters were losing their wet look. Jim looked around for forensics. He grabbed the closest tech and snapped, "Get a sample of that blood right now, before it dries!"

Blair turned to Jim. "You got something, Jim?"

He gave a sick grin and said succinctly, "Menstrual fluid."

Blair shuddered at the meaning behind that. He could almost _feel_ the bad vibes this place, these bodies, were giving off. _Talk about a freakin' lifetime of bad karma! Man, I'm gonna have to start staying away from places and things like this. Right. _He snorted quietly. _As if I'd stay away, if Jim needed me._

Jim wandered around the scene some more, silently checking things out, before commenting, "Let's pack it in here, Sandburg. We'll get the results of all the labs and tests tomorrow; and they're gonna autopsy first thing in the morning."

"Right." Blair resisted the urge to point out that it already _was_ first thing in the morning, and turned instead to follow Jim back to the truck. He stopped and turned back around when he realized the bigger man wasn't with him. "Jim?"

Jim had moved over beside the wall, and was kneeling down next to a puddle of blood on the ground. He pulled a rubber glove from his pocket and put it on; then touched the blood, bringing the tip of his finger up to his nose to smell. Blair watched him take a sniff, then another, then a third. Jim's eyes flew open on the third, and he stared at Blair, eyes open wide in disgust and disbelief. "It's menstrual blood and" He sniffed again, more forcefully this time. "Semen. There's semen mixed in with this. But it's mixed in with other blood as well--I can't tell how much of what is here."

Blair made a face. "Ewwww...that's like _so_ gross, man. You sure?"

"As sure as I can be until we get the lab reports back, but yeah, pretty much." He looked around and motioned to a forensics technician to join them. "This is getting weirder by the minute, Chief."

Blair nodded, eyes still focused on the puddle of blood at Jim's feet, and the drying blood on the wall.

"You needed something, Detective?" The tech moved to kneel next to Jim.

"Yeah--I want you to get samples of this, and test it against the samples of blood gathered from the two bodies, as well as against the samples we received from the victims last month. And test for other substances as well."

"Like what?" The tech looked baffled.

"If I knew I wouldn't have to have you test, would I?" Jim's answer was curt, and the tech flinched a little. Blair stepped forward and placed a calming hand on an arm that was rock-hard and tense beneath his fingers.

"C'mon, Jim. Let's get going."

"In a minute, Chief." Jim headed away from the tech and the puddle of...whatever, and toward Simon. He quickly informed the captain of what he believed the blood held, in addition to the menstrual fluid and other blood. Blair followed behind him, anxious about the tension that was radiating off of Jim in waves. "not going to stay for the autopsy tonight; I think Paul said they probably won't do it until morning, anyway, since it's so late--or early. We'll be in first thing, for the results, before coming back here."

"That sounds like a plan, Jim. Sandburg, you're as pale as death right now."

"Just a little reaction to all --this." Blair gestured, managing a parody of a smile. "I'm fine, Captain."

Banks snorted. "Right. Like hell. Go home, get some sleep, and come in, in the morning ready to solve this mother. I'm tired of pairs of bodies turning up in my city."

Jim nodded. "We'll see you in the morning, Simon." He turned away, catching Blair's sleeve. "C'mon, Chief--let's get out of here."

* * *

In Blair's mind, this autopsy was worse than the first one. Then, it had been dark; the evening matching the findings, cold and dreary, frightening. The sun was shining merrily today; a warm breeze was blowing off the coast, tiny white caps shimmering on the water. All in all, much too nice a day to have to deal with the ugly reality of death--especially murder. He shifted from his spot by the door, swallowed heavily once, then tuned back into the conversation between Jim and the ME.

Wolfe was gesturing enthusiastically toward the smaller corpse, his mask and eyewear doing nothing to hide his exuberance over his job. "Like the last one, there is evidence of rough penetration; he has scar tissue indicating healing. However, there are fresh lacerations as well, indicating trauma of some sort in the very recent past."

Jim watched, eyes hard and cold, muscle in his jaw flexing. "Can you tell how recently?"

"No--although I can estimate for you; probably within the last several days. The lacerations have begun to heal, but not enough for the tissue to actually be scarring yet."

The detective nodded. "What else?"

"His liver was intact this time, as is the other victim's, so we're running a tox screen on both of them." Wolfe shifted away from the smaller body and over to the larger. "There are a few noteworthy differences here, too." He pushed the torn tissue of the abdomen back together, holding it in place with one hand. Jim jerked his head around when Blair made a quiet, whimpering noise, his throat moving convulsively as he swallowed, working to contain the nausea.

"Go on, Chief--I'll handle this for us." The words were soft, almost gentle, in the harsh atmosphere of the autopsy room. Blair nodded thankfully and fled, his rapid heartbeat and intense respirations signaling to Jim that the younger man wasn't going to be able to contain it this time.

"Sorry, Doc. You were saying about differences?" Jim turned back to meet the sympathetic but amused gaze of the Medical Examiner.

"Right. Well, on our Doe One, the larger, we've got markings on his abdomen as well. I don't know if they were on the last one; he was too messed up to tell much of anything. But this fella's been marked here," he smoothed along a line near the navel, "and here." Another line, extending from the navel to the top of the pubic bush, then skirting along where the penis should have been, toward the inside of the thigh.

"You think it's the same patterning?" Jim leaned over closer, dialing his smell down nearly to zero. Even preserved, the corpse was beginning to stink of decay, and his head already ached enough.

"Hard to say for sure, since we didn't see it on the last one, but yeah, I'd say so. And was it you that told Shiffer last night that these cuts were deeper?" Wolfe glanced down at the chart on the table next to the autopsy tables.

"Yeah, why?"

"You were right--deeper by nearly an eighth of an inch. Which might not seem like a lot, but given that we're talking cuts into flesh here--"

"Makes a difference. Right." Ellison nodded, wondering what he'd done, and to whom, to get this case rearing its ugly head again. "Anything else?"

The ME shook his head. "Nothing outstanding. Mostly more of what we found in the first pair; this particular set is just in a little better condition than those two were."

"Thanks, Doc. I appreciate the help." Jim nodded to the other man, then opened the door and headed out.

He nearly tripped over Blair who was sitting on the floor, slumped over, his face an alarming shade of pale.

"Chief?" Jim dropped to a crouch next to his friend, his hand already cupping Blair's shoulder. "You okay, buddy?"

"Fine," Blair croaked. "Can't say the same for my breakfast though."

"I thought you didn't eat anything." Jim stood and extended a hand to his friend, certain there was nothing _wrong_ with Sandburg that wouldn't be alleviated when this whole mess was over.

"I didn't." A tiny smile tugged at pale lips. "It was a joke, man."

Jim shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Sandburg. Let's get some coffee into you. Might make you feel better."

"You mean the slag they try to pass off as coffee here?" Blair shuddered. "No way, man. My stomach's in _no_ shape for that."

"I thought we'd go to the Coffee Shack; maybe try something a little more exotic than the plain stuff."

Blair eyed Jim suspiciously. "What's with you, Ellison? Just 'cause I was puking my guts up--"

"No, no--I just thought we could both stand to get out of here for a few minutes; fresh air to clear our heads, maybe toss some theories around."

"Okay--sounds good to me. Lead on." Blair tried to ignore how good the warmth of Jim's hand felt against the small of his back as his friend pushed him toward the door.

* * *

They passed theories around, and just bull-shitted in general, for nearly two hours, over several cups of imported, flavored coffee for Jim, and several cups of herbal tea for Blair. When Jim was satisfied that his partner's color was approaching normal, and his heartbeat had calmed considerably, he suggested that they head back to the station and get some work done.

Blair paused outside the station doors, his manner hesitant. "Jim."

"Yeah, Chief?"

_God, how do I tell you how much it means to me that you saw I was losing it and took care of me? Some things go way beyond the whole Blessed Protector mantle, but you never seem to shrink away from them, no matter how trivial I think they are._ "I--. Thanks, man."

The bigger man looked genuinely confused and Blair's heart contracted painfully in his chest. "For what?"

"Just--thanks. Okay?"

"Sure thing, Sandburg. C'mon," he cuffed him gently on the side of the head. "Let's go find out who our bad guys are." _I wish sometimes I wasn't a cop, just so you didn't have to pretend to be one too. That I could keep all the bad shit in my--in our--life away from you. That you never had to see just how bad the bad can be. If all it takes to make it a little better is a couple cups of coffee or tea, then I'm thankful._

* * *

"Got anything interesting there, Chief?" It was late afternoon, heading into early evening and they'd been there for over ten hours. Jim's eyes looked tired and his voice held a tinge of weariness.

Blair looked down at the lab report he was holding. "Couple of things here. You were right, man, about the menstrual fluid. Totally different blood type than either guy, too. She's B neg."

Jim smiled then, a genuine smile. "That's pretty rare, isn't it?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Maybe we can link up through the list of registered regular offenders and check blood types."

Blair thought for a minute. "Possibly. Does the department have that information available on a database?"

Jim looked stymied for a minute, then shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but Paul or Serena should be able to tell you that." He arched an eyebrow as Blair made a notation next to that portion of the report. "What else?"

Here his animated partner sat heavily in the chair next to the desk. "The semen that you smelled with the other stuff? Well, the lab can't get a fix for sure on that, but they typed the DNA in it against DNA from the victim's blood--we'll have the results of that in a day or two."

Ellison frowned. "Why not sooner?"

"Well, maybe if this was the X-Files," the younger man grinned. "Seriously, though, DNA tests take a little bit of time, man. It's not like you can just pop it into the machine and have an answer spit out. Trust me," Blair said in a quiet voice. "And they found traces of the same drugs--all of them--in Doe One's system again. Same mix, of the henbane stuff, as well as the stimulant/aphrodisiac stuff."

"You know," Jim leaned back in his chair. "I'm starting to think we should check with some of the herbalists in town--surely some of these things can't be _easy_ to find? I mean, these sound like they're fairly rare drugs. Herbs. Whatever."

"Good thought, Jim. I'll make a list of the ones I know. It's fairly short What?" He glanced up from the report to see Jim staring at him. "Jim? What is it?"

"You hang out at herb shops?"

"Well, I don't know if 'hang out' is the right phrase," Blair removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "But where do you think my teas and stuff come from?"

"Guess I'd never really thought about it before. Okay, yeah. You do that. Hey, I told you that Wolfe found markings on Doe One's abdomen, right?"

"I think that was where I lost it this morning." The grad student's face grew hot at the memory.

"Don't sweat it, Sandburg. We've all lost it a time or two."

"Yeah, right."

"Trust me on this one, Chief. It's nothing I haven't done before."

"Whatever, Jim." Blair kept his face down, his hair hiding the pinkened cheeks.

"Okay." There was some shuffling and rustling and Blair looked up to see Jim settling in to the computer workstation. "I told Shiffer earlier this morning to upload the pictures taken last night into a folder for us, so you could access them for net search for comparisons. Want to show me how to do that? I'd like to find out if the abdominal pattern is the same, or related to, the one on the thighs."

Embarrassment forgotten, Blair stood up and moved behind Jim to walk him through the steps. The big detective closed his eyes briefly, trying to focus on his Guide's voice and instructions, rather than the fresh, spicy scent that made up "Blair" for him. The heat radiating off the younger man made it difficult when he kept picturing himself holding that heat, cupping Blair's face and drawing him closer, leaning in to taste those lips-- _WHOA!!_ _Back _**UP_, Ellison. Where in the _**hell_ did that come from? That was not a random thought floating around--that was a thought with a purpose. Jesus Christ. Life's not complicated enough right now? Man, back down and back off. You don't need to go there._

And even as he was telling himself, Jim knew he wasn't going to be listening.

* * *

Chapter 4

Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate  
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,  
And many a knot unravel'd by the Road;  
But not the Master-Knot of Human Fate.

There was the Door to which I found no key;  
There was the Veil through which I might not see:  
Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE  
There was -- and then no more of THEE and ME  
_\--The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam_

  
Give or take a couple of days, it'd been two months since the first set of bodies had been found, with two more pairs since then, bringing the total up to six murdered. Jim found himself waking in the night now, his mind totally obsessed with who was doing the killing. Whoever it was, they were good. Nothing at the crime scene to implicate, to point the direction. Just the desiccated corpses, all of whom had finally been ID'd.

Ellison spent more and more time at his desk, reading over every scrap of information that they'd gathered on the case so far, trying desperately to find a clue that would tell him where to look for the bad guys. He was tired, he was stressed, and he was beginning to withdraw into himself on it.

Tonight proved to be no exception, and he grimaced as he rolled over in bed to stare at the clock. Just a little past ten. He'd gone to bed at 8:30, prodded by Sandburg, who was starting to look a little haggard, himself. Jim sat up and drew a hand across his face, rubbing wearily at the rough whiskers there, then wincing a little when he rubbed his eyes, the grittiness from sleep chafing the delicate tissues.

The last pair had been found near the picnic area in Cascade Park. Even thinking about it now was enough to make Jim's stomach roil, remembering the hysterical young woman with a toddler who'd discovered them while taking an early morning walk.

Two of the men had been gay; the other four were not. Two of the pairs they'd found had had one gay man and one straight; one pair was comprised of two straight men. Given that each pair of bodies had been found in a sort of lover's embrace--not just lying on top of each other, but actually _embracing_, he and Sandburg had spent hours looking at that from every angle, trying to make it fit in somewhere. Blair had searched the web relentlessly, as well as checking his texts and myriad books and journals for clues on things they could look for. After all, as he'd pointed out to Jim, "Satanic cults aren't likely to advertise in the Yellow Pages." Jim had chuckled over that, but his eyes remained troubled; he felt as if he were failing--the community protector wasn't doing his job, and people were dying.

The closest they had come to narrowing things down a bit was that it _had_ to be a cult of sorts, with ties to black magic, and one of whom (at least) was trying to get pregnant, thus explaining the fertility symbols carved on the men. The DNA tests had come back with positive matches; it was the larger man's semen mixed in the menstrual fluid that they found at each murder site, indicating that the woman trying to get pregnant was having intercourse with at least one of the men.

Blair had been the one to figure out that the menstrual blood was probably being used to show proof of the failure of the woman to get pregnant, along with the sexual mutilation that was present with each body they found. What they couldn't figure was how the smaller men figured into the mix, and why they all showed signs of rough anal penetration. If it was the woman the men were having sex with, then why two men, and why did the smaller of those men show signs themselves of penetration? The gay men could be explained, but two of the smaller victims had been straight, or so they presumed based on the information they had at hand.

"But why two men at once," Jim had wondered out loud--_again_\--at dinner that night. "I can see one--well, I could see two, but only one has the fertility symbols carved in him."

Blair shrugged. "Maybe she wanted backup, in case one couldn't perform? Man, that would scare _me_ into impotence. Being forced to have sex with some whacked out woman who's heavy into satanic rituals? Uh-uh. No way. I don't _think _so."

Jim smirked at Blair. "Guess you go for the non-satanic coeds then, huh? I've never seen you take a back-up on a date."

Blair laughed. "Yeah, I prefer to do the job myself."

He got up to take plates into the kitchen, and Jim found himself watching his partner thoughtfully. _Would you like to do the job with me? I can promise you I'd like whatever 'job' you wanted to do_

Blair had sent him to bed then, with the admonishment to get some rest, or else. Jim snorted. _Or else, what, Sandburg? You gonna make me stay in bed?_ And his groin tightened with the thought of how he'd like to see that accomplished. He snorted at himself this time, for his thoughts that couldn't seem to be curbed no matter what. The lights were still on downstairs, which meant that Blair was still up. Jim decided a glass of water was in order and rolled out of bed.

* * *

The younger man had his head bent over a stack of papers piled on the kitchen table, his back to the stairs. Jim paused on the second-to-the-bottom step and allowed his eyes to feast for a moment on the man before him. Blair had pulled his hair back at some point, probably before sitting down with the papers. He'd told Jim before that it was easier to grade when he didn't have bits of hair falling into his face. Of course, this had the effect of baring a larger expanse of smooth, pale skin for Jim's perusal. He swept his eyes across the neck and hint of shoulder that was exposed, imagining how it would feel against his fingers, under his tongue. He shook himself as he realized just how dangerous those thoughts were, and headed the rest of the way down the steps.

"Hey--I thought you were gonna go to bed early, too."

Blair started visibly at Jim's voice, and turned around in his chair. Startled blue eyes, dark with fatigue and stress, stared at him over small wire-rimmed glasses. "Jesus, man! Don't _do_ that!" He shoved a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "What're you doing up? I thought you long gone by now."

Jim shook his head and came the rest of the way over, sitting in the chair next to Blair. "Woke up. You know." He waved his hand dismissively, trying not to let Blair see how badly bothered he was by this whole case.

Sandburg nodded, slowly, his eyes softening with emotion. "Yeah, I know," he murmured. "I see them in my dreams, too."

"I just--feel like I should be doing more. Doing anything." Jim clenched his jaw and pushed the words back down before he ended up saying something he wasn't comfortable revealing. "I don't know how to stop this, Blair," he said hoarsely, his voice raw with the emotions he was determined not to give in to.

The younger man reached his hand out and laid it on Jim's clenched fist, holding it there for a moment. He could feel the heat from the distressed man in front of him; he could almost taste the frustration and anger as well. _I'd like to hold you and tell you it will be okay, but I can't. I can't tell you that because I don't know if it will be, and I can't hold you because I--because I can't. I'm your friend, and I'm here for you, but I don't know how to express that without it being misinterpreted--by both of us. I don't know what I feel for you, beyond friendship. I know what I'd like to feel but I'm not sure I can open myself up to that kind of rejection, if you don't feel the same way._

He squeezed the hand once more, then let go. "We'll get them, Jim," he told his friend quietly, trying to push conviction into his voice. "Sooner or later they're gonna slip up and we'll get them."

The bigger man stared at him, his face still shuttered tight. "I hope you're right, Chief. I sure as hell hope you're right." He pushed back from the table and stood up. "Guess I'll go back to bed. You better get some sleep, too."

"I will," the younger man promised, watching Jim head up the stairs. _God, you're so beautiful...so strong...could you want me?_ He shook his head and turned around. What he and Jim had right now was the perfect balance of friendship and casual intimacy--enough that they felt comfortable giving each other casual touches, without it being a sexual thing. Blair's stomach flip-flopped at the thought of _making_ it a sexual thing, then he nixed that idea. _If it ain't broke, don't fix it. In other words, Sandburg, don't fuck with a good thing. Leave it be and get on with life._

Still, he couldn't help a tiny, wistful sigh at the thought of how good it was, and how much better it _might_ be

* * *

The phone rang later that night, not long after Jim had gone back to bed. As he came down the stairs he saw a light still on under Blair's door, and wondered what his partner was doing now, having told him he was going to bed. _Studying, probably; or looking for more clues in this bastard of a case. Kid's been surfing the net so much lately I should get him a board._

"Ellison."

Blair opened his door, and watched Jim's face. He watched his eyes close, then open; something close to despair lurking there in the sky-blue depths, and turned back into his room to grab his shoes, glad he hadn't undressed. _I'll take care of you, Jim. I swear I won't let them beat us, and I'll make sure you come out of all of this okay. Even protectors are human, buddy. Just remember that, okay?_

"I understand, Sir. We'll be right there." Jim closed the phone and met Blair's eyes with his own. "Another one," he said, voice rough.

"Where's this one at?" Blair balanced himself against the doorjamb and pulled his shoes on.

"Down by the harbor in one of the old warehouses. Simon says a couple of winos found them when they crawled through a broken window to find a place to sleep for the night."

"Shit."

"Yeah." Jim headed back upstairs to dress, then turned around to look at Blair. "I can't do this much longer, Chief," he said quietly. "I have to find them, or something's gonna snap."

_Inside me_ was unspoken, but Blair heard it as plainly as if Jim had shouted. He nodded at his partner, eyes meeting in understanding.

* * *

It was the same MO all over again. Right down to the menstrual blood mixed in with the victims' blood that was used to write the message. This time it was the larger man who'd lost his hand as a paintbrush; and Blair speculated on why she or they switched back and forth. _Again_ there was evidence of forced penetration in the smaller man. Jim and Simon were grim-faced as they stood by the Expedition talking about it. Blair stood next to Jim, trying to send comfort to his friend by his presence. He knew how helpless Jim was feeling over this just by how pronounced the lines were around his mouth and eyes.

Jim felt the heat from Blair's body next to his, and was grateful for his guide's presence. He'd come close to zoning earlier in the evening; the smell of blood over everything had become too overwhelming to a system that was feeling pressured from lack of positive results. Blair had talked him back from that nice safe place where everything was soothing and quiet, and there were no gory murders that were outwitting the law enforcement staff. It had taken nearly twenty minutes, Blair told him in an aside, to call him back. Apparently Jim's subconscious was trying to tell him that he'd about had enough.

They left the scene feeling with a sense of frustration that was mounting by the hour, along with an increased sense of urgency. The pattern was secure now; every thirty days, give or take a few, a new pair of bodies would turn up until they found the person or persons responsible for this. Jim swore a silent oath that when he _found_ those responsible, the sons-of-bitches were going to pay, and dearly.

* * *

  
Chapter 5

"Thou shalt not fear for any terror by night"  
\--Psalm 91

The bullpen was quiet, and nearly dark. Jim's desk was the only one with a light on at it since he and Blair were the only ones in the room at the moment. Everyone else had gone home around six, and it was a quarter past eight now. Jim sat at his desk staring at the photos of the victims. It'd been a week since the last set; which brought them up to eight men murdered in Cascade over roughly a three-month period of time. Given the pattern that had emerged, Ellison knew he had only another couple of weeks to find the killers before another set of bodies turned up.

_Where, and how, are the men being chosen? What's the outstanding thing that all of these men posses? What was it that made the killer pick them over everyone else? Is it truly random, or just made to look that way? Why the hell can't we find these people?! _A soft noise alerted him and Jim looked up from his musing to see his partner standing beside the desk, concern written all over his face. He sighed, too tired and heartsick from all this to even try and alleviate that. Let Blair be concerned about him. Hell, _he_ was concerned about him. One more failure and he'd lose it; he could feel his tenuous grip on his control slipping away from him even now.

Blair sat down next to him, watching Jim carefully, seeing the stress lines etched in relief on the stern face. He handed the older man a cup of coffee, then picked up one of the many photos scattered across the top of the desk. "What are you looking for?"

Jim shrugged, staring at the photo in his hand. "I don't know. Anything, nothing. I just feel like I'm overlooking something. I can't believe after this long that we're no closer to even _knowing_ who the killers are. You know, even when they couldn't catch them, the police still knew _about_ Mansfield, Bianchi, Son of Sam. Shit, Blair." The photo crumpled slightly at one corner as Jim's fingers convulsed. "I don't know, anymore. We've looked at every option I can think of, checked out every herbalist and occultist in town; grilled every Satanist who could be convinced to talk to us; run every goddamned lab test under the fucking SKY!" The diatribe got louder and wilder as Jim went on, until the last word was shouted, the sound echoing in the quiet of the large room. He shuddered when he saw Blair flinch away. "Aw, shit, Chief. I'm sorry."

The smaller man smiled wanly. "S'okay, Jim. I understand." Blair curled his fingers around his coffee cup to keep from reaching out and pulling Jim into his arms. He didn't understand this overwhelming need of late to _touch_ his partner, and found it a little disconcerting, to say the least. Physical attraction was easy to explain and deal with; it was the emotional stuff that went along with it that was starting to bother him. If he opened himself to those emotions, he made himself vulnerable. And he wasn't sure he could do vulnerable right now.

"No, it's not okay." Jim leaned back in his chair and looked at his friend. "I've been taking it out on you for weeks now. You shouldn't have to be the one taking all my frustration."

"That's never stopped you before," Blair tried for teasing and sobered when he saw the light blue eyes darken.

"I just don't know--I'm not sure anymore which direction to try. Simon needs--"

"Screw what Simon needs," the younger man said in a surprisingly even voice. "What about what Jim needs?"

"What I need is to solve this bitch before I lose my mind over it." Jim shuffled through the pictures again, pulling another one out at random. "Don Arove and Michael Cheshire." He flicked the picture at Blair. "Arove had a wife and three kids; Cheshire was engaged to be married next week. Next _week_, Chief. These men had full, happy lives, and they're _gone_."

"Jim--"

"No." Quiet and dangerous--Blair knew that tone; it was the one Jim used when he wanted, no, _needed_, Blair to back down. He couldn't back down this time, though. His partner, the big, tough, 'nothing bothers me, I can handle it' cop, was going to lose it totally if something didn't break in this case, and soon.

"Listen to me, Jim." Sandburg leaned forward earnestly, trying to sound confident and calming. "Why don't we go on home, take a break for tonight. You're wiped, man. What do you say?"

There was a long moment of silence, while Jim considered Blair's question. _Why can't I just give up for a little while? It's not been solved in this long; it's not likely to happen now. But just in case there's one thing we've overlooked that I can find tonight_ Jim looked back down on the picture he held in his hands. "Do you have the stats file handy for the victims?" While he was waiting for Blair's answer he focused on the photo. It was soothing to look at that picture; there was something very calming about the way that all of the lines were slowly blurring together, fuzzy and out-of-focus. Ellison gave a tiny shudder and felt the rest of the world slip away, leaving him cocooned in a comforting nothingness.

The younger man sighed and nodded, recognizing that Jim wasn't ready to give in just yet. A cold chill rippled through him and his skin goose-pimpled, like a cold breeze had blasted him, only from the inside. Blair shivered, but continued to rummage around in the file drawer before pulling out a thick manila folder. "What did you want to know?" It was quiet next to him, and Blair looked over to see Jim gripping the photo tightly, zoned out on the picture. He closed the file and grasped Jim's hands. "Jim." No response. "Jim, c'mon man. Come on back. Listen to my voice and follow it back. Jim..."

Blair watched Jim's fingers twitch, but there was no response otherwise. Tightness spread in his chest as he realized that Jim's respirations were getting slower and more irregular. "JIM! Jim...listen to me. It's Blair...your guide, buddy. You can't stay there, Jim. Come on, let go of the picture--God_DAMMIT,_ Jim!" Jim's breathing faltered, and the chill rushed through his own body, more violently this time. There was a note of hysteria winding its way through his voice--he could hear it. He shoved that thought to the back of his mind, along with the little voice that jabbered at him about what would happen when Ellison didn't come out of it, and concentrated. He lowered his voice, breathing deeply to calm himself down.

"Jim. I know you're feeling safe where you're at, but you _can't_ stay there, big guy. You need to listen to me. Focus on my voice. Breathe, Jim, c'mon...come on back...listen to me, I'm showing you the way to come back. Come on...yeah, that's it. Let go of the picture...deep breath...let go..." Blair gently pulled on the photo, drawing it from Jim's grasp. The fingers loosened up, and gradually the fists relaxed. Jim took a deep breath, and let it out in a shuddering gasp.

"God, what happened?"

Blair shook his head, the adrenaline rush slowly subsiding in his body. "Man, you zoned, like, totally. You stopped breathing for a minute." He shivered, then realized that the chill was gone. _Connected to the whole zone-out thing? Why hasn't that ever happened before? Or is it just coincidental and we're both so stressed that I'm having trouble remembering my name, much less anything else?_

Jim stared at Blair. "What'd I zone on?"

Wordlessly Blair held the photo out. It was crumpled on the edges where Jim had grasped it. He took it from his partner and looked at it, taking care not to look too closely. "I was just trying to figure out what we're missing here. There has to be a common denominator to the men being chosen. We know it's not a hetero versus homo thing, or they'd all be one or the other. It's obviously not _specifically_ about size, or again, they'd _all_ be the same size, although there is a trend, since half are larger and half are smaller, and they're consistent within those categories. Variations in hair and eye color, occupations, marital status. So what the hell is it?" Ellison rubbed his hand across his head in irritation.

Blair shook his head. "I dunno, man." He looked at his partner, determined to try again, hoping the intensity of the zone would prompt Ellison to listen to him. "But I'll tell you what--why don't we go home, and try again in the morning? It's nearly nine o'clock now, and I'm hungry." He looked at Jim. "Whadaya say? You could use some down time too, big guy. There's a ball game on tonight, we could order Chinese on the way home and sit and watch the game." _C'mon, Jim, pleasepleasepleasePLEASE_, _don't fight me on this one. You need the break, you're gonna self-destruct soon without one._

Jim looked at Blair for a long moment, and his guide began to wonder if he was going to zone again. Finally a small smile creased the worn face and Jim said, "Okay. I'll even buy."

"Yeah? Cool!" Blair smiled. He began gathering the photos up to put them into the stats file. One of the pictures caught his eye, and he pulled it free to study it. "Jim..."

"Yeah, Chief?" Jim was putting the other files on his desk away, clearing it off.

Blair looked up at Jim. "What if she or they are kidnapping two guys because, for whatever reason, the two guys have to have sex together?"

Jim stared at Blair, then reached his hand out for the photo. It was one taken at the last crime scene, and one of the first photos taken--when the two corpses were still lying entwined with another, in that deadly, twisted version of a lover's embrace.

"But we know that some of the guys were straight," Jim murmured, more thinking out loud than actually commenting.

"Yeah, well, straight men _could_ have sex with each other--they do it in prison," Blair said, reaching for another photo.

Ellison cocked an eyebrow at him. "Know that much about prisons, do you?"

"Just what I see on TV, man." Blair handed another photo over, then laid a third and fourth beside them. "Look at these, Jim. In every one, they're lying together like they've just had sex--except we know they haven't, because of the mutilation."

"But what if they had been for whatever reason, and they were killed for that?" Jim shook his head. "That doesn't make sense, Chief."

"No, wait--" Blair stood up and started pacing in front of Jim's desk, swinging his arms energetically, gesturing. "What about this? She needs _two_ men to get her pregnant--maybe the sperm from both, combined? No, never mind, only one is marked. Shit." Blair ran a hand through his curls in agitation. "What if one guy is the donor, and one's the, uh, _receiver_, so to speak. And that's why they're killed then--'cause she doesn't get pregnant." He paused a beat. "It would explain, sort of, the penetration angle for the smaller guys."

"What's the stat file say about these two?" The detective gestured to the third picture in front of him.

"Charles Bredt and Nicholas Avandale. Um, both were married; neither one had any priors; and there's nothing to indicate they were gay."

Jim brought the photo up close to his face. "Bredt's the big one, right?"

"Yeah." Blair watched Jim's face, knowing his mind was turning the puzzle over and over. He sat down on the edge of the desk and closed his eyes. It was now a quarter past nine, and he was getting hungrier and more tired by the minute.

Jim set the photo down finally, and sighed. "I don't know. I don't know where to go with this anymore. Your theory makes sense, although that's a weird-assed way of going about getting pregnant. Have two guys have sex, so you can get artificially inseminate yourself?" Jim stared at the photos another minute, then shrugged. "Makes as much sense as anything else. Tell you what, let's go with your idea about going home, and get some sleep; start fresh in the morning." He stood up and stretched, and Blair watched with a small smile, wincing when Jim's joints popped.

"Jim, _everything_ about this case is as weird-assed as it gets. It still might be the backup thing, man," Blair considered as he pulled his jacket on. "That actually makes _more_ sense."

"Hmm?" Jim turned to look at his partner.

"Maybe they're not having sex together, just there for backup. Like you said, in case one guy can't perform. The other guy could still be getting raped or something--we don't know what all's going on."

"That's got to be it, Blair. What would two men having sex have anything to do with getting a woman pregnant? It's her they'd have to be sleeping with, not each other." He shot his partner a look. "Which would you rather do, if you were forced into it? Sleep with her, or another guy?"_ Jesus, what am I doing, asking him a question like that? Why not just announce I want him, out loud?_

Blair looked up, startled. _Where in the world did that come from? And how do I answer without saying what I really want to say?_ "Where'd that come from, Jim? Talk about your weird questions."

Jim grinned. "Self-defense, Sandburg. I field weird questions from you all the time."

"Most of which you don't answer."

Jim laughed and gave Blair a gentle shove toward the door. "I do too."

"You do not. Why else would I have to, like, ferret everything out of you? You're about the most close-mouthed person I've ever met."

"Take a look in the mirror lately?"

They continued bantering all the way down to the parking garage, trying to ease a little of the tension this case was causing. Blair was glad he'd remembered the game, although by the time they got home now it would be half over. _Still, half of the JAGS was better than none. God, the parking garage is creepy at night,_ he thought as they stepped out into the deserted area. _Glad we don't stay this late every night, or I'd probably start sleeping with a night light on_. A grin spread across his face with that absurd thought. He turned to Jim to make a comment on ghosts and things going bump in the night when a hard, flat object made contact with the back of his head, and the lights went out.

Jim heard a faint noise behind them, and started to turn to see what it was--something about it raised the hair on the back of his neck--when he heard Blair's gasp beside him. He turned his head, and the world exploded into Technicolor pain behind his eyes before fading to black.

 

 Continued in Part 2


	2. Darkness Risen

Chapter 6

"How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground which didst weaken the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also in the mount of the congregation upon the sides of the north: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit."  
\--_The Book of Isaiah, 14:12-15_

 

Consciousness returned slowly, with a harsh throbbing on the right side of his skull. Jim shifted, and a groan fell from his lips as the motion jarred his head. Where was he? What had happened? He tried to shift up further and found he was manacled to something--a chair, likely. It felt like a chair anyway. He opened his eyes cautiously, blinking against even the little bit of light in the room. He couldn't make anything out at first, his eyesight was so fuzzy. When the picture finally started to clear he saw that he was in a room that had black draped around it; along with strange-shaped candles and odd markings on the walls and floor. Apart from the chair he was sitting on there didn't seem to be any others; no, there were benches along one side of the room. And a table on the other. A table holding a very familiar figure. A familiar figure who was lying entirely too still for his peace of mind.

"Sandburg!" Twisting did no good, his arms were securely fastened. "Blair--answer me!"

"He can't hear you, Detective. He's been drugged, and will sleep for hours yet. Time plenty for you and I to have a little chat."

Jim moved his head around too quickly and his vision swam drunkenly for a moment. _Great, am I concussed? That's all that would make this just perfect._ He closed his eyes; when he opened them again his vision was clearer, more focused. Focused right on a vision that looked like Morticia from the Addams family. She was average height and slender, but voluptuous in all the right places. Jim narrowed his eyes, giving her a studied once-over, trying to ignore the amusement darkening her eyes. As if they would likely get any darker. He swallowed, staring into the inky depths that looked like shards of black ice. He cleared his throat, trying to quell his rising concern. "Who are you? Where am I? What's going on?"

The woman laughed. Threw her head back and laughed. Irritation prickled through Jim's veins at the sound and he grit his teeth tightly, trying to control it. She brought herself under control and replied, "My name is Chardis. And you're here to help me with a little problem I'm having."

"Yeah? And what would that be?" Jim tried to keep his voice nonchalant while he figured out a way to get out of here.

Chardis moved around to stand in front of him, almost seeming to read his mind. "Don't waste your time trying to get free, Detective. You won't be leaving until you've helped me and if your assistance proves useless, well, you won't be alive to care if you leave or not." She paused, her eyes growing cold for a moment, as she seemed to look within herself. Jim watched dark eyes turn otherworldly before focusing on him again. "It seems that the men of Cascade are a ball-less lot; not one I've tried so far has managed to get me pregnant. Not for lack of trying, I assure you."

Outrage and astonishment surged through him and Jim glared at her. "_You're_ the one behind the murders?" _You're the fucking bitch who has ruined so many lives and made mine and Blair's a living hell...and you've got the balls to stand there and admit it to me?!_

"Oh, I wouldn't call them murders." The glance she gave him was both amused and unconcerned, and his stomach tightened around a coil of fear.

"What would you call them, then?" he ground out.

"Oh, more like 'sacrifices to a greater cause'." She smiled at him, and Jim noticed that the smile didn't quite reach her eyes...and neither, it seemed, did sanity.

"You being the cause, I'll assume."

"Oh, yes."

"So what do you need me for?"

"Why, Detective--you and your little friend are my next pair!"

Jim didn't even stop to consider the consequences of his next actions. With a roar of rage he pulled himself to his feet, chair and all, and tried to swing it at her. She laughed and moved out of the way, then halted him with one little sentence: "Don't forget about your partner."

Jim stopped trying to swing the chair. "What?" Chardis nodded toward the table along the wall. Another woman, one Jim hadn't seen or heard enter the room stood there, leaning over Blair. She tilted his head back, exposing the pale line of his throat. Jim swallowed heavily when he saw the long curved knife that was poised above that expanse of skin. "No," he began hoarsely. "Don't."

"Will you guarantee your behavior? As long as you cooperate, he's safe."

Jim nodded reluctantly, eyes fixed on the smaller man lying unconscious on the other side of the room.

The bitch smoothed her clothing and sat down next to him again, catching his chin in her fingers, forcing him to look at her. "Now, detective--let's talk."

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

When Blair regained consciousness he was aware of two things: he didn't have a clue where he was, and his head hurt. He moaned softly as he tried to sit up, only to discover the restraints holding him down.

"Hey," he called quietly, "anyone out there? I'm awake now...what's going on?"

He lay there for several minutes before fear began stirring inside him. Where was he? Where was Jim? They'd been together in the parking garage... The parking garage! He'd been hit over the head! What the hell was going on here? "Hey!" he said again, louder this time. "Hey, I'm awake now! What's going on?"

A cold finger appeared from nowhere and slid down his cheek. Dark, luminous eyes appeared over him, a feral gleam in them--along with something that didn't quite resemble sanity.

"Morning, pretty boy. Sleep well?"

"Uh...sure. Yeah. Where am I?" He swallowed heavily, trying to dispel the dryness in his throat and mouth. "Uh...who are you?"

The finger slid up his cheek, caressing, almost reptilian in its coldness. Blair shivered in fear and revulsion. "Uh-uh, pretty one. _I'm_ the one asking the questions." The finger moved across his forehead and the feeling of fear intensified. "What are you doing hanging around a cop, pretty?"

His brain sizzled at the insulting tone she used every time she said 'pretty', and his gut feeling was to get as far away from here as possible, as quickly as possible. _Jim--where are you, man? _"Uh..."

"I asked you a question, Blair Sandburg. I expect an answer." The finger rested on his forehead, dead center. Blair's body was racked with shudders traveling up and down his spine.

"I'm his partner."

"Personally or professionally?"

Blair sputtered for a minute before regaining coherency. "Professionally! Geez!"

The finger intensified the pressure on his forehead; another cool touch caressed his earlobe. "Attitude isn't going to help you here, Mr. Sandburg." A sharp, burning pain knifed through him, centered on his ear. Blair yelped in pain as the cold fingers tugged on his earlobe. "It's in there pretty tightly." Another sharp tug and he screamed as the first earring was ripped from his lobe. A warm drop of blood slid down his ear and he shivered in fear and revulsion.

Another voice, this one even colder than the one speaking to him, said, "You'll need both of them to make it work properly."

"I _know_ that, give me a minute."

"What's going on? Please--"

A hard slap across his face jolted him, his eyeballs bouncing in their sockets. "I told you, _I'll _ask the questions!" The person--woman?--turned away from him briefly and he felt the restraints being loosened. "Don't even try to get away, pretty boy. I have plans for you--and if you mess them up you'll be dead before you figure out how to get out of this building."

A cold lump of dread settled in his stomach and Blair swallowed heavily. He was pushed into a sitting position and the world spun drunkenly around him for a moment as his vision worked to realign with being upright. His head throbbed dully and his ear stung like a son-of-a-bitch.

As he looked around Blair realized that he was sitting in front of an altar. A black altar, if the objects scattered about could serve to base an opinion on. A woman moved into his sight and he realized it was the one who'd stood over him and taunted him, who'd jerked his earring out. He shivered at the look in her eyes. They were devoid of anything he'd have labeled as humanity. She pulled him roughly to his feet, and grasping his arm tightly, dragged him toward the altar. Another woman appeared next to him, hand reaching once more toward his ear. Blair found himself cringing backward, sure of her intent. A sharp pain ripped through him once more as the second earring was forcibly removed. A small piece of cloth dabbed at his ear and Blair caught a glimpse of a bloodstain as it was pulled away.

"Stand here, quietly. You're not to talk, not to move."

Blair nodded as if he'd been asked permission and was giving it, when he knew full well that they'd do as they damn well pleased.

"My name is Chardis," the woman with the dead eyes began, "and you are going to help me. I had a pleasant little chat with your partner earlier today...very pleasant. I've been watching the two of you," the words were sneered with odd emphasis and Blair felt a strange surge of shame run through him--uncertain of what the cause was. "You're are going to help me."

"Do what?" he blurted out, unable to resist. Chardis didn't seem to realize he'd broken the order she gave him.

"I want a baby and you and your partner are going to...assist me."

"Assist you? How?" He _really_ didn't like the way this was beginning to sound.

"Sacrifices to a great cause." Chardis cocked an eyebrow at him, ran her eyes up and down his body as if she were assessing him. "Well, I imagine you'll make the biggest sacrifice, pretty boy--you're the one who'll be raped."

"WHAT?!" His heart stopped beating for a long moment, then began again in quadruple time. Surely he'd heard her wrong...

"Raped. Well, sex--preferably by force. We take, ah, _measures_ that nearly always ensure that it happens that way." The woman surveyed him with a pleased expression on her face. Blair imagined that his reflected his horror at her words.

"Oh, god--_you're_ behind the murders..." Images of the eight dead bodies found around Cascade rushed through his mind and Blair shuddered.

"Very good, professor. Didn't think you'd make the connection so quickly. You're awfully smart...perhaps now is the time to take some precautions against that, as well as our other measures."

He didn't even want to know what the _measures_ were going to be; three months immersed in the madness that surrounded this had shown him that as curious as he was about different cultures, sub-cultures and such, this fell into a realm he preferred to remain ignorant about.

She whirled about without even waiting to see if he'd reply, though he was too lost in his own thoughts to consider it. The other woman had moved up to the altar and had placed his earrings into a small stone bowl. Chardis joined her companion on the dais where the altar stood. The two women embraced, exchanging what should have been a kiss but looked more like a perversion of that loving act. Chardis pulled away from the other woman with a long caress to her breasts, then turned and began chanting over the bowl, in a monotone voice too low for Blair to hear the words. Smoke began slowly rising from the bowl and Blair's heart started tripping over itself. His breath caught in his chest and an odd feeling moved through him. He cringed suddenly, eyes darting around the room, staring intently at the shadows dancing about the dark room. Were there live things in those shadows? He couldn't tell--and didn't really want to know. With a sob of terror he clenched his eyes shut tight, praying that Jim would arrive soon to get him out of here.

He opened one eye to see smoke rising in large clouds from the bowl where his earrings had been--although he saw no sign of a flame. The women seemed transformed somehow, larger and more menacing. He still couldn't hear words, just a voice. That seemed different somehow as well. A large shadow shifted and began moving toward him and Blair felt his heart suddenly speed up as terror rose up to envelope him. His eyes rolled backward in his head and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

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* * *

_  
_

He woke lying on the floor, cold. His head still ached, though not as badly; it was more like a dull throb now. He winced as he touched his ear and wished he could say the same for that. A small scab of dried blood flaked off and he resisted the urge to touch it further; a gradually-rising sense of unease moved through him, not yet overpowering, but promising to get there soon, blossoming into outright fear. A soft groan from the corner of the dimly lit room caught his attention and he shifted into a sitting position, moving slowly both from pain and fear. Fear of what he couldn't have said, but it seemed to move through him, filling him.

The groan resounded through the tiny room again and Blair got slowly to his feet, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. Jim was lying on a bed--the only one in the room--curled onto his side. He seemed unharmed, though either unconscious or asleep, Blair wasn't sure which. He leaned over fractionally and softly called his partner's name. "Jim."

There was no response and he sighed both in relief at not disturbing the man, and in concern over not disturbing the man. Shit, this was a like a fucking no-win situation. _What am I afraid of? Where's this coming from?_ "Jim."

He sighed in frustration and reached out a tentative hand to gently shake the other man. He pulled back just as suddenly as fear knifed through him--what would happen if Jim grew angry at being awakened? Blair shook his head. His partner had never hurt him--_where was this fear coming from?_ A half-formed image of two women chanting over a smoke-filled bowl containing his earrings flitted through his brain and he groaned softly at the thought of having been 'magicked'.

"Jim...c'mon, buddy. I need you awake here." This time he did shake him, just barely. The skin beneath his fingers was soft, the muscle beneath that hard and unyielding_. So much strength in this man...yet so much gentleness too._ Memories of how hard and how personally Jim had taken and viewed his 'failure' to solve the cult case flashed through his memory and Blair sighed. This was _not_ going to go over well. "Come _on_, Jim. It's me, Blair. I know you can hear me, big guy. Wake up. Come on...that's it..."

A muffled groan met his ears, but Jim didn't do more than stir under his hand. Blair gave a groan of his own, despair and fear washing over him. Great. They were captives of a madwoman who wanted a baby and was obviously practicing black magic to try and attain that goal. He remembered with horror the pictures of the bodies they'd found over the last three months. Men mutilated beyond recognition...strange marks carved into their bodies...signs in some of forced penetration..._ 'Obviously received rough anal penetration at some point, though from what source I couldn't say...Torn tissues, lacerations just beginning to heal completely...'_ Wolfe's words from the various autopsies coalesced into one burning statement in his brain: it was as he'd guessed. One man the donor, the other the receiver.

_'You'll be the one who's raped...'_ the voice sneered at him from the darkness of his mind. Raped by _whom_? Not Jim.... surely Jim wouldn't go along with something like that? If not Jim, then who? Who else was around that would be a willing participant in this? And how did raping _him_ figure into impregnating _her_? It still didn't all click together, and his brain hurt too much to try and put all the pieces together. He dropped his head into his hands, trying to calm down.

"Oh, man," Blair moaned quietly into his hands. "This sucks in a major way..." He leaned back over Ellison and shook him again, not quite so gently this time. His fear--founded or otherwise--over waking the bigger man up was nothing over his terror at the prospect of being raped. "Come _on_, Jim--you need to wake up. Now, man." He shook again, rewarded this time with a snuffled grunt from his partner.

"'M awake, Sandburg..."

Blair hastily moved back when Jim shifted and spoke to him. He sat himself down on the edge of the bed and waited, knowing his partner would wake fully shortly. His patience was rewarded when Jim sat up, rubbing at his eyes, and the back of his head. "Blair!"

"Welcome back, man," Blair tried to smile. He managed a sickly parody of one, watched Jim give him one in return. "Guess we're in some serious trouble here, aren't we?"

Jim nodded. How did he tell his partner just exactly _what_ kind of serious trouble they were in? And more importantly, how their captors intended to force his cooperation. He shuddered at the thought of anything happening to Blair because of him. "Yeah," he said slowly, "you could say that."

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They moved to the small table sitting alongside one wall. Blair seemed more at ease--if that was the right term for it--when he wasn't right next to Ellison, so Jim let it be for now. He'd explore the whys of that in a few minutes. For now, they needed to get as many facts as they could laid out between them.

A long, lingering glance at his partner, when the smaller man wasn't looking, didn't go very far in reassuring him. _I swear I'm gonna get you out of this, Blair. Or I'll die trying, at the very least._ No, dying on Blair wouldn't be good--that would leave the younger man alone with this insane group.

"How's your ear?" A neutral conversation-opener, since neither man seemed to know what to say to the other.

"Huh?" Blair touched his ear, winced, and lowered his fingers. "Hurts," he said matter-of-factly. "If they wanted the damned earrings they could've just said so--I would have given 'em." Remembering the bloodstained square of cloth he sighed. "I guess there was a purpose to that, though."

"No doubt," Jim agreed carefully. "And your head?"

"Jim, man, I'm fine. Okay? We need to figure out how to get out of here."

"I agree. But we also need to talk about what she told us--me. I gather you didn't get a lot of information out of her?"

"Hardly," Blair scoffed, mainly at himself. "I was too busy trying not to piss my pants." At the clenching muscle in Jim's cheek, Blair fell silent and seemed to shrink within himself. "Sorry, man," he whispered hoarsely.

"Sorry for what?" Jim's face showed confusion and Blair nearly laughed, the acrid taste of irony bitter in his mouth.

"Just--sorry. For everything."

"Blair, this isn't your fault."

"No, but I'm cowering here like a fucking idiot, getting scared when you look at me. Man, what's _happening_ here?"

"From what she told me, we're going to be the providers for the sperm she needs to get pregnant. Or I am, anyway. You--" His jaw tightened again as Jim recalled how Chardis had laughingly told him in graphic detail what she was going to do to him, and what he would then do to Blair.

_"You're going to rape him, Detective," she said, laughing, obviously enjoying the look of shock he could feel spreading over his face. "We're going to ensure that. See, in another six days I begin my fertile period, when the conditions are the best for me to conceive. During those six days you and your little friend will be prepared and dedicated to our Lord and master, readying you for your service for Us._

_"There will be some rituals--but you'll know that, won't you? You'll be given an injection once a day, every day from now until the beginning of my fertile cycle, herbs which will increase your potency and virility, as well as stimulants which will build up in your system, rendering you incapable of not responding. Your body will be primed, Detective. Primed and ready." She ran a hand across his chest, trailing it down to squeeze his cock, lingering there to stroke him for a moment. "So ready. Then, on the actual day, you both will be ritually prepared. Different rituals for the two of you, but both consisting of cleansing._

_"You will provide the sperm, the seed, necessary for the infant to be conceived in my womb; a chance for our Lord to have a human form on this earth once again. Your partner will act as the receptacle for that seed. You will be given another injection that morning, then again just before the ceremony itself. Afterward, if all goes according to our plans, you will be burning with lust for your partner; any refusal on his part and you'll take him with as much force as we can manage to raise in you. You'll force yourself on him, spending yourself inside him. We will then retrieve the seed and I'll impregnate myself with it."_

_She'd sounded so cold, so clinical, that Jim had shuddered just from the words, never mind the meaning behind them._

_"And if I don't agree to this?"_

_"Oh, we'll see that you do, Detective, or you'll regret it--and he'll regret it even more."_

_Not as long as there's breath left in my body, he vowed._

He came back to himself with a start, Blair's inordinately pale face telling him that he must have spoken out loud.

"She's absolutely insane," his partner whispered, even his lips a bloodless pale color.

Jim nodded. "I am _not_ going to hurt you, Chief," he said as gently as he could manage. "I swear to God, hell I'll swear to the devil himself, I'm not going to hurt you. You have to believe me on this one. There's nothing they can do that can make me hurt you."

Blair smiled wanly. "Thanks, Jim--but I think they can do just about anything they want."

"I know how I feel, Sandburg, and the Blessed Protector instinct is stronger than anything they can conjure up." _Please, God--I haven't been to church in more years than I can count...but I know you have to be listening to this. Don't let me hurt him. Help me have the strength to get us both out of here, safely, as quickly as possible._ Jim stared at his friend, trying to communicate his feelings there. "You have to believe me, Blair. You have to believe _in_ me, okay? We'll get out of this, together." Jim slid one hand out, across the table, and waited, palm up and outstretched.

After what seemed like an eternity, Blair reached his own hand out and placed it in Jim's, flinching only a little when the larger hand curled around his, squeezing gently. "Trust me," Jim said softly. "I won't let you down."

Blair nodded, his throat tight, an ache in his chest. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jim. Trust had nothing to do with it. "Promise me something," he began, hoarsely.

"Anything, Blair." Jim tightened his grip on their clasped hands, stared the smoky-blue eyes down with his own.

"Promise me--if you can't...if we can't get out of here...if it looks like... Don't let anyone else hurt me," he said in a rush. "I can stand it, if it's you...doing...if I'm having sex with you. Don't let anyone else, please. I'd rather you kill me...then have to...let someone else..."

"Jesus Christ, Sandburg!" Jim's voice was a raw whisper. "I can't kill you, man, you're my best friend!" His hand tightened convulsively on the smaller one he held, both their knuckles going white from the pressure.

"Do it," the younger man hissed. "_Promise_ me, Jim. I swear, I can deal with the rest of it. But I can't handle the thought of someone else doing to me--what was done to those other men. If you can't do it, or they won't let you, I want you to kill me before someone else can."

Jim swallowed hard, his stomach roiling. "If it comes to that, Chief," he stopped to clear his throat again, his voice as hard and raw as the bitter winter winds, "I'll do us both. I won't let--that--happen with anyone else." _I'm sure as hell gonna try to not let it happen with me, either. Six days from now, we'll be outta here._

"Thank you." Blair's head had dropped, his voice no more than a rough whisper. Jim let go of his hand and reached across to tilt his head back up. Hot tears shone in the dark blue eyes and Jim felt his heart contract painfully. He watched as the pool grew larger, overflowing the dark depths, until one by one they fell, trailing down the pale cheeks. He flicked them away one-by-one with his thumb, resisting the urge to lean over and lick them off, to offer a different kind of comfort. _That's not what he needs right now; he needs the friend I've always tried to be. I have to forget that I feel anything at all for him other than friendship._

"We'll get out of this, Blair. I _swear_ we'll get out of this."

There was no answer from the figure across from him, just the continual overflowing of tears as Blair tried to control the fear curling through him.

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Chapter 7

The best blood is of the moon, monthly: then the fresh blood of a child, or dropping from the host of heaven: then of enemies; then of the priest or of the worshippers: last of some beast, no matter what.  
\--Aleister Crowley, _Liber Al vel Legis_

It was hard to tell for sure how much time had passed now; how long they'd been captives of a madwoman and her plans. No one had been into this small room since either of them had awakened, something Jim found very suspect. Were they being monitored, somehow? He couldn't detect anything that gave the indication of monitoring equipment...but this situation was far from normal, too.

He tested the door once more, noting grimly the absence of windows. The only way for air to be circulating through their room was a series of small--very small--grates that were set high to the ceiling and covered with a mesh screen. He'd already tried, and had Blair try, to fit into the small opening; even his partner was too large.

"First time in my life I'm _too_ big for something, and it's the time we most needed me to fit." Blair sounded tired, almost defeated, and Jim wanted to pound his fists into the person who'd done whatever it was to put the fear of life into his partner.

Instead he tried to soothe with calming words, at the same time still scanning the room, as if he hadn't already memorized the small space. "It's okay, Chief. I doubt a six-year old could fit through there."

His only answer was a snort as Blair shifted restlessly on the bed where he'd taken up residence.

The room itself was not uncomfortable. One bed, bigger than a twin, smaller than a double. He'd have been cramped sleeping it in himself; he and Blair were expected to share. A small wooden table sat against one wall with a ladder back chair at one end and a small wooden bench in front of it. One lamp sat on the table, providing the only illumination in the tiny room. There was a narrow door set into one wall that opened into a half-bath; toilet and sink were all that could fit into the tiny closet. A careful inspection of that room had revealed nothing. An extra roll of toilet paper, a small bar of soap, a toothbrush, a couple of tubes of ointment of some sort. Nothing that could be reasonably used as a weapon or a means of escape.

More movement from the corner of the bed caught his eye and Jim turned to see Blair huddled into himself, body shaking.

"Chief?"

"C-cold, Jim...c-c-can't get w-warm."

"It's more than that though, isn't it?" Jim crouched next to the bed and placed a warm hand on Blair's knee.

"S-s-shock," Blair nodded in agreement, seeing it in Jim's eyes. "You th-think so, t-t-too,  
don't you?"

"Yeah." Jim tightened his grip for a moment, then released Blair. "Listen to me, Sandburg. We're gonna get out of here. You understand? I'll get us out you don't have to worry about that."

Blair shuddered as another cold wave, accompanied by fear, washed through him. "I know," he whispered. He couldn't stop that fear from rising over him though and he cowered back away from his partner. The words had burned into his brain, "you'll be the one to suffer...it'll be you being raped...", and regardless of Jim's good intentions and promises he knew what lay in store for him. He'd seen the pictures; seen the bodies.

Jim watched Blair's eyes cloud over, watched as his partner cringed back from him, as if he'd hurt him. He started to reach for the younger man then checked himself when Blair's eyes widened and dilated and the shaking increased. Afraid of sending Blair into a seizure, Jim chose to move from the side of the bed.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Blair. You gotta trust me on this one, pal. No matter what they told you, you know better. I would never hurt you--you mean too much to me."

"I know, J-j-jim," came another soft whisper. "It's s-s-so hard though..." He coughed once, the unshed tears and the fear combining into a very real, choking grip on him.

"What can I do to make it better for you?" Jim paced the floor of the small room, trying to decide how best to help the smaller man. It hurt him to see Blair cowering like this; his partner was a feisty, self-reliant individual who could stand up for himself. Too many people had underestimated him in the past and regretted it later. What Blair lacked in size and strength he made up for in brains and his ability to think quick on his feet. That was one of the things that Jim liked so well about the man. Blair was intelligent and knew how to use that intelligence to his benefit. But sometimes even intelligence couldn't compensate for sheer trauma and shock...and Jim knew this was one of those times.

_How would I be reacting if someone had just told me I was going to be raped, repeatedly, all so some insane bitch could try and get pregnant? Never mind even the whole satanic angle; it would probably throw me over the edge._

A soft noise caught his attention. "Heads up, Chief. Company's coming."

Blair froze when the door opened, terror leaping into his eyes when Chardis and another woman that Jim didn't recognize entered. He found himself moving in front of his partner, protectively, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed against his chest.

"I trust your accommodations are comfortable?" the devil-woman purred as she walked around Ellison. He shifted his stance, trying to keep the younger man from her, but she moved past him to stand in front of Blair.

"You know they're not," he growled, the hair on the back of his neck rising. "You could just let us go now...they might go a little easier on you, downtown, if you don't pursue this again."

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that." Chardis turned to look at Jim, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Why do you think I'd want to? No," she continued, "that's not a good idea."

"Why are you here?"

"Well, Detective, you are my guests," she emphasized the word ever-so-slightly, "and I wanted to see to your welfare. See how you were acclimating. Poor Blair--you don't look so good, do you? Things a little scary right now?" She leaned toward him and his eyes widened, the terror reflected in them rising to hit new peaks. Jim pushed her, shoving her away from his terrified partner.

"Get away from him!"

A sudden scuffling behind him and the other woman, who'd been standing silent by the door, had him in an arm-lock, holding him motionless. Chardis leaned in toward him, her demeanor now cold and menacing, dangerous.

"Don't you _ever_ touch me again, unless I bid it. Do you understand?" The words were spoken softly, but with a wealth of threat biding within. Jim met her gaze with his own, his own eyes hard and cold, the same stare he used to make hardened criminals back down. Chardis smirked at him. "You think you're a tough guy, don't you? Big, strong...never crawl, never beg. You touch me again without permission and begging is the least you'll do again. I'll make your life so painful, so miserable, that death when it comes for you will be welcome--until you fall straight into the pit of hell." She reached down and grabbed his balls and squeezed, hard, her fingers like vice-grips on his sensitive parts.

He grunted, then watched with almost casual curiosity as the room wavered around him, black spots dancing before his eyes. The pressure on his balls continued, growing tighter, more painful. From a distance he heard a voice saying something, but couldn't make out the words; didn't really care. Another twist and nausea overwhelmed him, then the room spun and went dark.

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"Jim? Oh, man...Jim, are you okay?"

He was lying on the floor...and Blair was leaning over him, eyes dark and anxious in the dim light. Where was he? What'd happened? A sudden throbbing in his groin tossed the answer into his face. "Chardis--?"

"She left a few minutes ago--you haven't been out that long. Easy, now." Blair helped his friend sit up, until Jim felt grounded enough to hold himself up.

"Oh, God--" Ellison panted, trying to breathe through the waves of nausea moving over him. "Shit, that hurts."

Blair shuddered. "It looked like it," he whispered. "Your face got so white--you were beyond pale, man. Ghosts look healthy to what you looked." He studied Jim, eyes moving slowly over the other man's face. "You've got a bit of color coming back now. Think you can get up? You might feel better, lying on the bed."

"In a minute, Chief." Jim clutched at the arm that was supporting him. "Been a while since I had my nuts cracked like that." He closed his eyes, the nausea slowly receding. "Okay--I think I can get up now..." He grunted with the effort of shifting himself upward, and heard Blair's little groan as well as the younger man took his weight and braced it with his shoulders.

"Up you go," the student muttered, getting Jim situated on the bed. "Want some water? There's a cup in the bathroom."

"No," Jim threw an arm over his face, still breathing roughly, his body tight with the slowly ebbing pain. "I'm just gonna lie here and rest. I'll feel better in a little while."

"Okay, then." Blair seated himself at the table and propped his head on his folded arms.

Jim was asleep in a matter of minutes, his breathing evening out as his body relaxed. _He got himself hurt for me--protecting me. Jesus, I'm something else. Freaking out like that just because the bitch decides to talk to me. What the hell is wrong with me? I know what's wrong with me--it's gonna be my worst fucking nightmare come true in a couple of days. Shit, I can't believe that after all this time, we find the killers, only it's us who's gonna be killed next. Goddammit. And here I'm sitting, cowering behind my partner like a fucking baby._ He looked over at his partner. Jim had shifted a little, lying now on his side, rather than his back, curled inward into a fetal position, hands covering his hurt testicles.

_He had to have known she wouldn't stand for him pushing her aside like that--what made him do it? Jim, you're the greatest, buddy. Even if we don't get out of this alive, I know that you tried. I'm just glad I've had this long to know you, to be your friend. I'm sorry that it's turning out this way, though. I think I would have liked to have sex with you...but I don't think I can do it under these circumstances. Not like I'm being given very much choice here, am I? No, I know I would've liked to have sex with you. Maybe we'll get out of here yet, but it's gonna ruin things for us. We can't ever go back to being just friends, like we are--were. But we're not going to be lovers, either. She's going to take the most precious thing in our lives and fuck it over until it's not recognizable as our friendship._

_No! I don't believe that._ Blair scrubbed angrily at his eyes, dismayed to find them filled with tears again. _Jim's not going to look at me differently because he's had to fuck me. I know him--he wouldn't do that. I wouldn't do that...and Jim's as fair-minded as they come, more so than me, sometimes. I'm going to have to believe him when he says it's all right, because if I don't then that means that I don't believe in him...and that's not the case at all. I've never believed in anyone as much as I believe in Jim Ellison. I have to trust him; trust that he knows what he's doing. At least if we cooperate with her, with them, we'll be alive and together for that much longer. And when he goes, I go with him, as it should be. A sentinel and guide always stick together. Friends stick together._

He rubbed his hand tiredly across his forehead. His head hurt, his ear hurt, he was tired and heartsick. All his mental ramblings didn't change anything: no matter _how_ they handled it and acted afterward, when Jim knelt behind Blair six days from today, their relationship _would_ change. There was no way it couldn't. No way.

He looked longingly at the bed, wondered if he could sneak in next to Jim and grab a quick nap. He needed to lie down and rest his aching head for a few minutes. Surely Jim wouldn't mind, in light of what they were going to have to do? It would be nice to have Jim's body heat thrown at him too, since even now he was still shivering. He went and relieved himself in the bathroom then took a deep breath and returned to the main part of their room, to stand beside the bed.

Indecisiveness made him even jitterier than he'd been, and when Jim snorted in his sleep he jumped, startled. _You're just gonna lie down and take a nap, for yin' out loud. You're not asking the man to marry you._ Maybe not, but given all the circumstances they had to deal with, this was just as big a deal. Another deep breath and his hands were on Jim, gently rolling him toward the wall, making room for himself. He slipped under the one light blanket that was covering the bed and closed his eyes. Jim's body was blessedly warm, and combined with the blanket, he was slowly warming up. _This isn't so bad,_ he found himself thinking, as his eyes closed and he slipped into slumber's arms.

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_  
_

The first thing Jim was aware of was that the throbbing in his balls was gone. In its place was a stirring, tingling sensation that reminded him of arousal, had he been a little more inclined at the moment. A light, clean scent, overlaid by blood, sweat and the stink of fear filled his nostrils then, and he realized that Blair was lying next to him on the bed.

Actually, Blair was snuggled up to him, leeching body heat from him. Jim sighed and shifted a little, encouraging his partner's snuggle, enjoying the feel of Blair's body pressed against his. His cock tingled, but nothing else happened. _Not likely too, for a day or so anyway,_ he thought ruefully. _Pity the bitch didn't think about that when she was trying to wring my balls off me--it's a damn good thing for her she doesn't need her stud services tonight. I couldn't get it up for anyone right now._ Could he get it up for Blair, when the time came? His partner was obviously terrified of the idea. Oh, not the sex so much, but the idea of it being forceful. _I won't rape him. I don't care what they inject in me, what they make me drink, how they threaten me. I'm not going to do that to him._

Jim sighed, breathing Blair's scent in deeply, pulling the essence of his partner into his lungs like a soothing balm. This whole thing--the case, all of it--had been a nightmare from the get go. Now they were caught up in it, with no place to go and no way to get out. Blair words from earlier swirled through his mind, haunting him. '_Promise me, Jim. I swear, I can deal with the rest of it. But I can't handle the thought of someone else doing to me--what was done to those other men. If you can't do it, or they won't let you, I want you to kill me before someone else can.'_

_And I said YES! What the hell was I thinking? I was thinking of keeping him safe. I'll keep him safe until I can't any longer...then I'll do both of us. At least we'll go together, and I'll be with him._ Ellison closed his eyes against the image of Blair dead by his own hands, regardless of why. He hoped it didn't come to that, because he wasn't sure he'd have the strength...nor could he live with himself if something came to pass where he couldn't follow Blair.

The younger man shifted in his sleep and eased a little closer to Jim, snuggling against the hard, warm body. Ellison groaned silently, more than aware of how badly he wanted his partner, and how long he'd wanted him for. _Just not like this. I never wanted it like this. I wanted him to want me, too. Not be scared of me._ Jim lowered his head and pressed his lips gently against the top of Blair's head. "I'll get you out of this, Chief," he whispered into the dark curls, before pulling the blanket higher over the two of them and closing his eyes again.

_   
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* * *

_  
_

The door opening woke both of them this time, and Blair froze when a woman's voice cut through the stillness in the room.

"Well--aren't you nice and cozy." She came full into the room, bearing a small tray. "Guess you couldn't wait to sample the goods, huh? Just better not come too many times--Mistress needs you to give a good showing."

Blair was still snuggled up to Jim's chest, and it was no feat at all for the older man to hear and feel the sudden out of control pounding of his partner's heart.

"Easy," he whispered, turning and sitting up. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm nobody--nobody important. Kind of a gopher, I guess." She laughed at herself, then turned her glance back at the two men still huddling close on the bed. "You really should try not to fuck him too much before the ceremony--it's gonna decrease your sperm output and that's the whole idea here, isn't it?"

Jim could feel the heat radiating off of Blair's cheeks. "We're not--" he began, prepared to defend himself and his friend. Then he realized it was unimportant what they thought of them and closed his mouth again. Let them believe what they wanted to. Maybe it would make it easier on Blair, in the end.

"You need to get up," the woman continued, not noticing Jim's aborted attempt to set her straight. "I have your injection right here--and some dinner. You'd best eat while you can, since you have to be purified for the ceremonies you won't get anything to eat after tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow?" Blair flashed his eyes up at her, then back down when her gaze settled on him. "Why?"

"I told you," the clear voice sounded impatient. "You have to be purified. _Clean_, when it's time. Can't have anything sitting in your digestive track, can we?"

The gist of what she was telling him suddenly sank in and Blair flushed hotly all the way to his toes. _Man, I thought my days of being embarrassed over sex were long gone! It's not like I know this woman...and it's not like I don't know the mechanics of two men having anal sex...but Jesus, she's so...clinical about it. So matter-of-fact._

Jim sat watching the exchange, his own stomach suddenly tying in knots. _Injections. Shit--it's gonna be that shit we found in the other bodies. Hallucinogens. I can't even handle fucking 'Nyquil', and they're gonna pump me full of shit that'll probably send me reaching for and clinging to the ceiling!_ "I'd like to forgo the injections. I promise that when the time comes I'll--do what I have to do."

The young woman shook her head. "Not possible. You have to have the injections, that's part of what makes everything work."

"You don't understand--I have an extremely low tolerance to drugs. Of any kind."

This time it was a grin. She was amused by all this! "Sorry--rules are rules. Come here."

Jim maintained his seat on the bed. "No."

"Jim! Are you _nuts_, man?" Blair hissed in his ear.

"No--and you know why I'm refusing. Remember the cold meds?"

"As if I'd forget--but man, this is different. We know you'll react...we can work with it."

"Sandburg--"

Jim never got to finish his sentence before the bitch was grabbing him and shoving the needle into his arm. "Next time I'll bring someone in to hold you down if I have to," she told him, pulling the needle out. Jim watched as a tiny drop of blood welled up from the entry point. A tingle began spreading outward from the center of the pinprick, warmth rippling through him.

_Oh, shit._

She stood there for a moment, watching him, watching them. Her expression was thoughtful and Jim wondered if she could see the slow flush that was spreading through him from the injection.

"Well, I think I'll leave you two to your...activities..." she emphasized the word, then gathered up her tray and left the room. The click of the lock falling into place resounded through the silence. Jim fell backwards against the mattress.

Then Blair was there, kneeling next to him, still on the bed, his cold hands chaffing at Jim's suddenly hot ones. "You okay, man? Jim--you're burning up!"

"I know," he managed to bite out, trying with some effort to cut through the ringing that suddenly filled his head. "Help...me...Blair..." his body shook as the heat began moving through it.

"Okay, just gimme a minute..." The younger man still held his hands, rubbing them absently. "What're you feeling right now?"

"Dizzy," Jim muttered. "Hot, cold--it's back and forth. Weak. I don't think I can move--"

"Shhh. You don't have to. It's okay, man. You're safe."

"Not safe here..." the voice was weak, almost lethargic. Jim's head moved restlessly on the pillows, as if seeking a comfortable resting spot.

"Safe enough for now. Relax--I'm not gonna let go." Blair lifted their clasped hands.

"...flyin'...don't let me fall..."

"You're not gonna fall, man. I'll catch you."

_Oh, Jim. God, what's this going to do to you? I know basically what the effects of these two stimulants are--you're just getting them so fast! We haven't done a lot of substance tests...there never seemed to be enough time to fit everything in. I don't know how to talk you through what's going to be the equivalent of an LSD trip; God, what if you OD before I can get help for us? We know that all the victims we found were borderline anyway; you're way more sensitive. Think, Sandburg! You've got to help him--the man is your best friend, the closest person to you. The only one who can help him at all is you._

The man beside him shook, presumably from the contrast of heat and chills, and Blair sighed. They hadn't even gotten to the stimulant part yet; Jim was still dealing with the initial effects. He shifted himself into a lotus position and settled in to wait, and guide, as best as he could. Eyes closed, breathing slow and deep, Blair silently chanted a relaxing mantra, trying to calm himself as best he could. The fear had been pushed aside, mostly, for now; hopefully it would stay that way until he could talk Jim through all this.

_   
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* * *

_  
_

It took maybe an hour; Blair wasn't sure completely of how much time had passed. He knew about how long it took to run through his mental relaxation techniques, and he'd done all of them.

Jim's handhold on him tightened a little and a deep, heavy sigh came from the bigger man. Blair found himself stroking a hand across his friend's forehead, ostensibly to check for fever.

"How you doin', man?" he asked softly, wondering how Jim's hearing was. He wasn't surprised when the older man winced, and he whispered his next question: "Can you dial it down at all?"

A short, quick shake of the head. Jim's eyes were squeezed shut, his face tense with, at the very least, discomfort, if not outright pain.

"Can you open your eyes for me? Jim?" He continued to whisper the questions, not wanting to cause his friend any further discomfort. Jim shook his head negatively again. "C'mon, man, work with me a little bit here. I know it hurts--"

"It's not pain," the older man rasped. "Well, not really. I don't know how to explain it. Everything is sensitive. I can feel the molecules of air hitting my skin right now. I can see the different spectrums of light behind my eyelids. I can hear different tones and levels in your speech. Pain, but not pain. It all feels good...too good, almost."

Hyper-stimulated hyperactive senses. Now what the fuck were they going to do? Blair closed his eyes in concentration, trying to figure out how to deal with this the best. He opened them to look at Jim when his partner starting shifting restlessly on the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"Need to use the bathroom."

"So go." Blair moved off the bed and waited for Jim to cautiously crack an eye open and shift awkwardly. "Jim?"

"I don't know--" the voice was raspy again and Blair looked closely at him.

"Are you still dizzy?"

"I feel like I just chugged a six-pack of beer." As if to emphasize his point, Jim shifted alarmingly, his body listing to one side. Blair closed the small distance between them and maneuvered his partner into an upright position. To his absolute shock Jim laughed.

"What?"

"I don't know--just, how stupid this all is. Man, it's like I'm drunk...or tripped out on something."

"As if you ever did that," Blair scoffed good-naturedly, trying to herd Jim into the bathroom.

"You'd be surprised, Chief. I went to college once. I remember those days."

The banter was light-hearted, and heartbreakingly familiar, almost as if nothing had changed between them. As if nothing had happened to them. _Nothing has changed, yet, _Blair reminded himself. _It's just that we have the knowledge that it's going to...and that alone has created a change._ "Think you can handle it from here, big guy?" The student wasn't sure he was ready for the intimacy of handling Jim's penis for that, and backed out of the tiny bathroom gratefully when Jim assured him he was capable still of performing this act.

He was in there so long that Blair was just about ready to go and check on him when the door opened and a still-slightly flushed Ellison emerged; face damp, but eyes looking more in control.

"Want to eat?" Blair gestured to the table he'd been sitting at, staring at the food there. Nothing terribly exciting; some sandwiches and fruit, chips--picnic fare.

"Yeah, I could eat." Jim seated himself next to his partner and tore into one of the sandwiches.

"Okay--I need to know. How are you feeling right now? I want it catalogued," Blair added, seeing the question forming on Jim's lips. "Everything. Still feeling hyper-sensitized?"

"Yeah--but not as bad as when I first woke up. Mostly tactile like that now. I'm warm; unusually so. I still feel like I drank too much on an empty stomach...kinda loose and relaxed, y'know?"

"How about--y'know. Aroused." Blair looked down at his sandwich while he asked that, and Jim heard his heartbeat skyrocket. It increased exponentially when he answered.

"Yeah, a little." In addition to the heart rate off the scale, the younger man's breathing increased, lungs rasping harshly in their effort to pull air in and out as fast as the body was demanding it. "I'm not at the 'throw you down and rip your clothes off' stage, Chief." There was an audible gulp, as Blair obviously tried to decide how to respond to the gentle teasing. Jim reached out and touched the hand nearest to him, holding steady even when Blair winced and drew back a little. "I'm sorry--I was trying to lighten things up a little. Eat your dinner."

Blair's hand shook beneath his and Jim noted the tremor extended to his entire body, a fine, constant shaking. "It's not you, Jim...it's me..." The shaking increased and Blair tugged his hand from under Jim's, the bigger man letting go reluctantly.

"I'm not going to pounce, Sandburg. Eat." He pointedly returned to his sandwich, the tension in the room now enough to cut. _Something's gonna have to give, and soon,_ he decided, amazed that he could think that coherently with his brain on fire. _Bad enough this shit is crawling through my system, lighting small fires as it goes; it has to set my brain to burning along with everything else?_ In spite of his best intentions, Jim couldn't dispel the image of Blair naked beneath him, moaning his name. He shook his head violently to clear it, then finished his sandwich quickly. He dispatched two more in short order, noticing that Blair was still picking at one.

"You want me to go into the bathroom, or something, so you can finish?" Jim wasn't so sure he liked that idea, but if it would put his partner at ease enough to finish his dinner, he'd give it a try.

"No--I'm done. I just can't...can't eat anything."

"Maybe you'll feel like eating later."

"Maybe." Blair pushed the plate away, then stood up, standing indecisively in the center of the small room. He looked up at Jim and a glimmer of the Sandburg that he knew was there, glittering in the dark eyes. "I feel like I have ants crawling in my brain right now. I'm so edgy--any little thing is going to set me off...and I don't know if I'll be able to control it."

Jim stood up and moved a little closer; touching distance. Blair trembled but held his ground and silently the detective cheered his partner's courage. "I've got fire-ants crawling around in my head. I keep--seeing things. Hearing things. Stuff I know isn't there--the stuff they gave me is hallucinogenic...and it's working, believe me. I'm not sure right now what's real and what isn't... What are you afraid of?"

"Huh?" The non sequitur, thrown in at the end of the speech, threw Blair.

"What are you afraid of? Me?"

Blair wrapped his arms around himself, and shuddered. "Not specifically, I guess. Just--afraid. I know you won't hurt me...but I can't seem to stop the feelings...and now that you've got that drug in you, I can't predict what you're going to do. And I don't know what to do about it!"

"What if I kissed you?" Jim shifted incrementally closer, his body heating up at the nearness.

"K-kissed me?"

"Yeah, kissed you. You know, lips on lips? A kiss."

"Why?" The lean frame was shaking now, but from what, exactly, Jim couldn't say.

"To ground us. To show me you're real...show you I won't hurt you. Please, Blair..." Jim's voice dropped to a ragged whisper. "I need to do this--for both of us. I'm burning, from the inside out, right now...I don't think the polar caps could cool me down."

"But I can?" Blair's whisper matched Jim's for rawness. "A kiss will be enough?"

"For now...I think...yes." Ellison raised his arms, his hands moving to cup Blair's face. "Yes?"

"And if I say no?"

"Then I won't. I'll lock myself in the bathroom until this passes...but I won't." Jim hands trembled on his face and Blair felt an answering shiver run through him.

"Yes."

One word, whispered, but Jim heard it. He lowered his face toward Blair's, eyes maintaining contact with the smoky-blues that radiated terror...and the tiniest hint of curiosity. "Thank you," he whispered against Blair's lips, as he brushed his own across them. Lips that were so incredibly sweet that he brushed them again, then a third time, before molding his own to them, parting them with his tongue.

And they did part, a tentative invitation, but inviting nonetheless. Warm, moist breath met his own as Blair exhaled into his mouth; whether a sigh or a moan Jim couldn't say, and didn't really care. His partner trembled in his arms as he gently ran his tongue around the inside of that sweet mouth, tasting every bit he could. And as he'd expected, the fire burning within him flared hotly, then dimmed significantly, as his body's need was met.

It flared again though when he pulled away from the luscious mouth, spurred along by the faint groan from his friend as their mouths separated. Jim brushed a thumb over the wet lips, then leaned back, letting his hands fall away, steadfastly ignoring the burning in the pit of his belly.

"Better?"

"I--don't know," Blair breathed, looking at him with eyes wide from surprise, shock and only a little fear now. "I...liked it," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jim felt a smile spread across his face. "You were supposed to. That was the idea."

"Would you...do it again? If I asked?"

Ellison frowned now. "Why?"

"I felt--safe--almost, I guess. Jim?"

The bigger man pulled the smaller into his arms, thrilled when he felt Blair's arms circle his waist loosely. "My pleasure," he breathed, lowering his mouth to the sweetness of the other.

When they separated, long, long moments later, both were breathless and just a bit flushed. Blair actually smiled--just a little--at Jim. "I think...that's okay."

The older man shivered. "I hope so." _'Cause if the burning in me right now is any indication, it's gonna get a whole lot more intense before this is over._ "Are you ready to get some sleep?"

Fear crept back into Blair's eyes, but it wasn't the overwhelming look it had been earlier. This time it was tempered by actual proof that Jim could control this thing--at least a little. "Sure. I could sleep."

"Let's do it, then. We have no idea when they'll be back or how long they'll let us sleep. We need to try and keep our heads clear."

"Drug wearing off?"

"Not much, yet." Jim shook his head. "That's why I want to sleep--I'm hoping that will help."

"You want inside or outside?"

"Which will make you feel safer?"

Blair considered for a minute. "Have you on the outside--?"

"Fine. Get in."

They climbed into the bed, grunting as knees and elbows contacted with other body parts, then settled down. Jim sighed happily when Blair rolled toward him, spooning his back to Jim's chest. "This okay?" There was hesitation in the soft question.

"Fine." He slid an arm over, wrapping it around Blair's waist. "Is this?"

A yawn answered him, then a sleepy, "Yes."

Both settled into sleep fairly quickly, worn out from the tension and stress of not only the last day or so, but from the three months leading up to this.

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* * *

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Chapter 8

"For behold, the kingdom of heaven is within you."  
\--_Luke, 17.21_

He was warm and comfortable, with a warm body snuggled against him. When had he found the time, much less the energy, to bring someone back to the loft? Jim rolled over and gathered the body close to him and found himself cuddling his partner. His eyes bolted open as he realized where they were and what was going on. What time was it? Was someone going to be in soon with more food...more drugs? That made him take stock of how he felt. Dizziness seemed to be gone; hyper-stimulation seemed to be gone; the feeling of inebriation was gone. But best of all, the incessant burning that had flowed through his blood and his brain, was gone.

_I kissed him last night._ That thought reigned uppermost in his mind right now. He'd kissed Blair, not once, but twice--the second time at the younger man's urging. And it had been so good. So sweet. Even the circumstances surrounding the reasons behind the kisses couldn't take away from the impact they'd had on him. It was no great surprise to realize that it would take very little effort on his part to fall in love with Blair--he'd been heading in that direction for months now. This was just going to tip the scales; assuming they survived it.

The warmth of the younger man against him made him achingly aware of the morning hard-on he was currently pressing into the back of Blair's thigh. With a startled intake of breath he realized that it wasn't just the usual morning erection; he wanted his partner, wanted to make love to him. _Not like this--I don't want to fuck him like an animal in rut; I want to hold him and kiss him and caress him...show him how much I care about him._ It occurred to him to wonder how much experience Blair actually had with men; for all the grad student's open-mindedness and acceptance of different cultures and so on, he'd never seen him date anyone other than women. Never smelled another man on him. _Something to discuss when he wakes up. I don't want this to be totally unfamiliar when we're made to do it--I want him to be prepared._ Meanwhile, if he didn't want to freak his friend out, he'd best remove himself before his cock drilled a hole through Blair's leg.

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* * *

_  
_

Blair was awake and sitting up by the time he emerged from the bathroom. "Morning, Chief."

"Hey. Is it?" Blair scrubbed at his face, noting with a small grimace of distaste the several days growth of whiskers on his face.

"Is it what?"

"Morning. How do you know?"

"I don't--but I'm not going to sweat it. I'm getting the feeling that our days and nights are going to be a little off here."

Sandburg shook his head. "You done in there, man?"

"Yeah--help yourself. I tried to save you some hot water..." Jim managed a smile with the words, the joke old and familiar.

Blair gave him a feeble smile to show him the effort was appreciated, then ducked into the bathroom.

He re-emerged a scant five minutes later, holding a cup full of water and staring at it like it was poison.

"Something wrong, Chief?"

"Just wishin' it was coffee, man." A small shiver traveled down the length of the lean body, but Blair kept his eyes level with Jim's. "I could really go for some caffeine."

"Well, maybe they'll bring us some with whatever they bring us to eat, though I wouldn't hold my breath if I was you."

"You don't see me gasping, do you?"

Jim grinned at his partner, glad that Blair seemed loosened up enough to joke even a little bit. He gestured him over to the table with a head motion. "C'mere, buddy. We need to talk."

Blair joined him, his eyes full of questions. "About what?"

_Man, how to start this?_ "I was wondering..." Jim paused and took a deep breath. "I was wondering how much--if any--experience you have with men."

Blair stared at him for a long, long time, fingers playing with the condensation on the outside of the cup. "Um--"

"I need you to be honest with me, Chief. _You_ need to know what's gonna happen, if you're not familiar with it. This is going to be hard enough, without you being scared to death over what we're doing." Jim looked at his partner, seeing a combination of fear, gratitude and anxiety mirrored there. His own emotions? "So--how much?"

"I--I've kissed a couple of guys before...not including you," he mumbled, fingers now tight around the cup. "And, um, jacked off with one, once. Y'know--mutual jacking off. I did him, he did me."

"And that's it."

A slow blush burned its way up the stubbled cheeks. "Hey, man, it's not like I was ever unwilling...I just didn't have the chance when I wanted to; then I was havin' fun with the women I was dating, and--"

"Sandburg. Sandburg!" Jim held a hand up, stilling the nervous chatter. "Calm down, buddy. I wasn't criticizing...I was just making sure. Relax."

Blair took several deep breaths. "Sorry, man. I--it just seemed..." he trailed off, his eyes dark and troubled. "How much experience do you have?"

Now it was Jim's turn to flush uncomfortably. "A whole lot more than you have," he said evasively.

"C'mon, Jim. That isn't an answer and you know it."

"Let's just say that I swing both ways, and have for a while--and leave it at that, okay?"

Blair stared at his friend thoughtfully for a minute. "That's quite a revelation to spring on a guy and not expect me to follow through on it. But, for now...Okay," he responded quietly. "So what else did you want to talk about?"

Jim breathed a quiet sigh of relief. No _way_ did he want to get into the hows and whys of his sex life at this particular moment. "Um...we need...that is, um..."

"Come on, Jim. Just spit it out. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad." A quiet fear spread across Blair's face. "Can it?"

Ellison shook his head. "No, it's just...awkward...to bring up. It's got to do with you--and our upcoming...activities."

"What about me and them?"

"Do you know what's involved with anal penetration? Specifically, with anal intercourse?"

"Jesus, Jim!"

"It's a valid question, Sandburg. Yes or no?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean, what is there to it, besides just...y'know."

"It's not like with a woman, Blair. A man has to be ready--be prepped, if you want to use that term. Stretched out? Following me here?"

"Yeah, I'm following you." Blair stared down at the water, then raised the cup and drank, hoping the cool would soothe the burn in his cheeks and body. Not so much from embarrassment, though there was that, too. But something else...something he wasn't ready to define yet...and couldn't right now in any case.

"You've never had _any_ degree of anal penetration? Not even when you were jerking off?"

"I--no." Blair mumbled his answer into the cup, hoping that Jim would understand that this wasn't normally how he'd have approached this conversation. It was _not_ a big deal for him to talk about sex--with anyone. At least, not normally. And he didn't think it was who he was talking to, specifically.

"Well..." here Jim hesitated; long enough that Blair finally looked up to see his partner staring at him with an embarrassed light in his eyes, as well as something else indefinable.

"Well, what?"

"We should...I mean, I should...get you ready. Show you what to expect."

Blair goggled at him. "Have sex? Now?"

"No. I don't think that'd go over too well with the bitches outside." Jim frowned at the thought, then shook his head. "No, I'm thinking more like just...you know, like foreplay. Fingers...get you stretched out a little bit...at least let you get used to the sensation. It's a helluva shock, Blair, even when you're expecting it. And me stretching you out with my fingers a couple of times is still not going to prepare you for the actual act...but at least you'll have some idea."

Blair shook his head, his face gone pale. "I don't believe I'm hearing what I'm hearing, man," he whispered in a rough voice. "Do you _hear_ yourself?"

"I hear myself, Chief, and I'm sorry as hell that I have to say it at all. But it's a valid thing to consider...and I hope you do. I'm sure as hell not going to do it without your permission--though we're not going to have that luxury in a few more days." Jim shifted a little and moved toward the younger man, tilted his head up with one finger under the stubbled chin. "Look at me, Blair. I don't like this any better than you do--worse, probably, because I've been there--been a virgin, and I know what to expect for that. I _don't _want to hurt you, man, and I'm afraid I will...if you don't let me do this!" Jim removed his hand and backed away. _God help me, I may end up hurting you anyway...but I can't let myself think that, because that's counterproductive._

"I need...I gotta think about all this, Jim."

"I know you do, buddy. I wasn't expecting you to say yes right away. But I _do_ want you to think about it. Please." Jim waited for a minute before reaching a hand out and resting it on the shaking one that was lying on the tabletop. It was cold and trembling, like Blair himself. "I'm sorry, Blair. So very sorry." Jim squeezed the hand, then got up and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Blair stared at the closed door, wishing he could open it up and see inside, without Jim seeing him. _Jesus, I don't believe Jim was saying all that! And what the hell is this 'I swing both ways' shit? Since when? For a long time is not an answer...and if he thinks I'm letting that go he needs to rethink thing. I don't know if I can do this. I know I don't have a choice--and that's got me scared out of my fucking mind. The only reason I'm keeping any kind of hold on this at all is because Jim won't let me down. He'll be here for me, like he always is._ The student brushed his hair back from his face, considering that, considering the feelings he'd been having for Jim before any of this ever happened.

_I've been curious for a while now...wondering what it would be like to have him for a lover. I've been afraid too, for the same reasons. Didn't want to fuck up what we had. Well, it's about to be fucked up for us...so there really isn't any reason not to have him 'get me ready', is there? What if that's just words though...what if this is like a leftover from having the drug last night? No, he's not acting like he was last night. I'd know, wouldn't I? Listen to me! What am I thinking? God..._Blair rubbed his hands across his face, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with his life. _Jim's thinking of me, thinking of my welfare. Whether or not he'd get any satisfaction out of it is strictly immaterial right now. If he's got...the experience he says he has, then he knows. I have to trust him. I have to. If I start doubting him now, it's all over. I might as well offer my throat as my ass, for a sacrifice._

That settled in his mind, Blair knocked once on the bathroom door and said softly, "Come on out, Jim."

The older man walked back into the room and looked at his Guide sitting there, silent, tense, pale. "You can think about it longer, if you need to. We're not on a timed schedule here."

"Well, actually, I think we are, Jim. And..." he gulped audibly, his heart pounding in his chest. _I'm about to majorly expose myself here._ "I think you're right, and...yeah."

_Thank God_. The more he'd thought about it, the more concerned Jim had gotten, wondering if Blair would be able to see through the fear that was clouding everything for him right now. Apparently he had. "I'm--glad. You know." He gave his friend a crooked smile, his own heart thumping suddenly when Blair returned it.

"So...now what? What do we do? When...?"

"Let's take this one step at a time and see what feels right. There might come a moment when it feels more right than any other--we'll know, I think." Jim smiled again, hoping to convince himself as well as his friend.

They sat there for a little while, making small talk, but that proved awkward after a while. Blair got up and paced, resenting that things were awkward between them. What did you say, when a depraved woman who wanted you to breed for her was holding you in captivity? _Oh, good going, Sandburg. Remind yourself of why you're here--of what they want you to do._ The chill of fear that hadn't left him in at least 24 hours slammed back into him and he shivered violently, his teeth knocking together.

Jim was there in a heartbeat, large warm arms wrapping around him, holding him close.

"You're okay, Chief. I've got you..." A large hand caressed his hair, almost petting him. Blair let himself be soothed by the soft rumbling of the familiar voice; lulled by the gentle &lt;ka-thump&gt; of Jim's heart. He only briefly took notice when he noticed them moving, noticed that Jim was guiding him back to the bed. Jim shifted himself down, in a sitting up position, then pulled Blair down next to him, cuddling him close.

"S-sorry, Jim..." The words were harsh, breathless. "I c-can't seem to s-s-stop..."

"Don't apologize, Blair. This isn't about you, or me; it's about how we're being manipulated. They caused this, not you."

"S-should be strong, h-h-help you o-out." The self-recrimination in the usually strong voice shook Jim to the core. He twisted himself around so he could grip Blair's chin in his hand and stare him right in the eyes.

"You listen to me, Sandburg. You're doing the best you can do. No one, especially me, is going to fault you for anything. Do you understand? You were strong when I needed you to be, last night during the drug trip; let me be strong for you, now. Okay?"

Dark sapphire eyes looked up at him, a light sheen of moisture shining in them. Blair nodded and sighed, "Y-yeah." Then he leaned his head forward until his lips brushed gently across Jim's.

It was hard to tell who was more surprised: Jim, or Blair. Both men's eyes widened, heart rates leapt within chests. It was Jim who pulled back, seeing the uncertainty in Blair's eyes.

"Jim?"

"Just let me hold you. Nothing more, Blair. Let me hold you, and keep you safe." _For as long as I'm able._

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

Blair was dozing in the safe circle of Jim's arms when they came back. Ellison had been going over all their options in his mind, finally coming to the conclusion that there really _weren't_ any options for getting out of there, short of a miracle or two.

The door rattled briefly before swinging open; it was enough time for Jim to gently shake Blair into wakefulness, if not total coherency.

"Company comin', Chief," he hissed quietly in the younger man's ear, wondering why he hadn't heard anything. Surely this room couldn't be blocked so well as to keep all sentinel abilities at bay?

This time, in addition to the young woman from yesterday, there were two large women--large enough to have given Joel Taggart a run for his money--and Chardis.

"Well--I see you're settling in nicely, getting along," she cooed at them.

Jim shifted them around again so that Blair was partially protected by his body. "What do you want?"

"Detective Ellison, you seem to have a real problem with attitude, don't you?"

"So my supervisor keeps telling me," he grated out. He could feel Blair trembling behind him, and wished yet again that he could just reach out and kill this woman. He could do it barehanded, though he'd never liked doing that. He'd make an exception to that, though; in this instance it was likely to bring him incredible pleasure.

"Well," she moved away from the bed, seating herself in the chair at the table. "I just wanted to check on your well-being. After our little...disagreement...yesterday, I thought I should see how you're doing. Yvelle reported that you were looking very well yesterday afternoon. I wonder if that was the company?" Her oddly colored eyes lit on Blair for a long moment and smiled when she saw him shudder. "Anyway," she continued, "we're obviously going to need to take precautions about too much, ah, extra-curricular activity; after all, you are here for a purpose, aren't you?"

"What kind of precautions?" Jim's stomach tightened at the thought of anything else being done to either of them. Everything so far was more than enough.

"Oh...just some precautions. Preventative measures, if you will." Chardis gestured the other women full into the small room. The woman who'd been by yesterday, Yvelle, set another small tray on the table, then removed a syringe from her pocket and handed it to Chardis.

"Anything else, Mistress?"

"No, that's all for now. You may watch from the doorway, if you wish."

"Thank you, Mistress. I think," the younger woman smiled, "I think that would be fun."

"Indeed." Chardis turned back to the two men. "Mr. Sandburg--I'm going to need you to move, and Detective, you need to drop your pants. And gentlemen--I don't repeat requests."

Jim shook his head. "Why?"

Behind him Blair hissed quietly. "Don't provoke them, Jim!" But the smaller man made no efforts to move, either.

Chardis sighed. "I can see that taking the two of you together has been nearly as bad as introducing to complete strangers. They didn't care at all about one another; you two are obviously too close. Ladies! Yvelle, I'll need you as well, now."

The large women moved in and grabbed Jim securely, holding him through his struggles. Yvelle grasped Blair's arm and drew him off the bed; although frightened he did struggle a little, but the woman was strong and he was too uncertain to try very hard. She drew him off to the side where they both had an unhampered view of what was going on.

"Now then," Chardis loomed over Jim. "I understand you weren't very cooperative about getting your injection last night. That, coupled with my decision to take those preventative measures, has led us to this. Wouldn't it have been nice if you'd just cooperated?"

Jim struggled against the two large women who held him. "Go to hell," he spat, resisting the urge to actually _spit_ at her.

"Already there, darling." She laughed delightedly, the reached for Jim's belt.

"NO!"

"Your virtue is safe with me, for the moment, Detective. Relax."

_Relax. Yeah, right. NOT!_ Jim's brain was going into hyperdrive, not helped by the fact that he could hear Blair whispering under his breath, 'please don't hurt him...please don't hurt him...'. He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch Chardis pull his pants down. A rush of cool air caressed his genitals, then the warmth of _her_ hand as she stroked him quickly.

"I knew you were the right man for the job," she smirked, when his penis swelled a little. "Let me make it better for you." A sharp stinging in his arm, followed by the quick surge of warmth that he _knew_ would turn to burning, began flowing through him. "Now, then," that hated voice jerked him away from his concentration, as rough hands pulled at his penis, lifting it away from his body.

"What the hell are you doing?" The outrage in his voice shocked him, but he couldn't help it. Was she going to rape him? While Blair watched? He struggled against the hands that were pinning him to the bed.

"Preventative measures, Detective."

"Oh, man..." the quiet voice of his guide forced him to look down, rather than at the ceiling. Chardis was pulling a...a cock ring out of her pocket.

"No, way." He pulled fiercely, trying to get loose from the grips holding him. "No fucking way!"

"I'm afraid so, Detective." The voice was coldly mocking now.

"NO!" Jim arched his back, trying to wiggle away from the fingers that were even now fastening the leather around the base of his penis.

"Release him," Chardis nodded to the two women who were still pinning him down, and to Yvelle as well, to release Blair. Jim immediately reached for himself and Chardis stopped his movement with a touch on his wrist. "Remove that, Detective, and your young friend over here will pay dearly for the transgression. I promise you. If he survives the torture, he'll welcome the death that will follow."

"Jesus Christ, lady." Jim could barely form the words into the ragged whisper that came out. Blair's face was dead white, even his lips were pale. "Why?"

"As I've said several times now, simply preventative measures. Yvelle will remove the ring each evening when she brings you your evening meal; we'll replace it each morning when we come to give you the injection."

"I thought we weren't getting any more to eat after tonight." His fingers itched to reach down and pull the ring off, so Jim crossed his arms, trying to ignore the buzzing that was growing louder in his head.

"You'll still receive liquids, until the night before the actual ceremony. After all, the idea is to cleanse you, not kill you. At least, not yet."

So saying, Chardis turned on her heel and left the room, the other three women right behind her. Jim jerked his pants up, fastening them with fingers that were nearly numb from stress. He looked over and realized that Blair hadn't moved and called to him softly.

"Chief?"

Blue eyes blinked slowly, then roamed his face. "How you doin', big guy?"

"I need to sit down," Ellison replied, sinking heavily onto the bed. The nausea was there again, as well as the hot and cold sensations. But worse than all that, was the burning he'd felt last night. Like a fever out of control inside his brain and his body. His cock began to twitch.

"Jim?" A worried voice, right overhead. "Man, you're gonna be hurting, tonight." Blair gestured helplessly toward Jim's groin.

"I know." The words were a sigh. "I'm gonna lay down for a while, Blair. Maybe if I lie still it won't be so bad." Even as he said the words he knew they weren't true, but he wanted to pretend it might be so.

"Do you--want me to--y'know, lay down with you?"

"Only if you want to. I'll understand if you don't." Jim closed his eyes against the heat creeping downward, his body already falling under the spell of the drugs. _No, please, don't let it happen this fast. It wasn't this fast last night; I had a chance to kind of get used to it. Please..._

Blair crawled onto the bed and Jim brutally silenced a groan when the younger man's body brushed against his. "I want to help you, Jim--but I don't know what to do. How are your senses doing?"

_What senses? My world has shrunk down to nothing more than my cock and burning blood, and thoughts of you. You wouldn't want to lie here next to me if you could see into my thoughts right now, my friend. If you were scared to touch me before, you'd be terrified to be beside me at that. All I can think of is how much I want to hold you, kiss you, caress you...then fuck you until neither one of us can stand up or sit down. I want you, Blair! And goddamn those women to hell and back again, they've made it impossible for me to even enjoy these phantom thoughts._

"They're okay, I guess. A little skewed, but not like last night. I know I'd be dizzy if I tried to stand up, but other than tactile, nothing seems to be _real_ bad off."

"What do you mean by tactile? That's pretty general."

"Well, right now my shirt is rubbing my nipples raw from the touch of the cloth against them, and my pants are stinging the hell out of anywhere they touch." _And I don't know if it's actually my senses, or if I'm just imagining it, from the hallucinogens, or what. I don't trust myself to know the difference right now._

"Do you want to take your clothes off?"

The question caught him off-guard, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts and Jim paused, considering. "No--not right now. It's tolerable now; I'd like to wait until I can't stand it anymore, then fall back. If I start out giving in to the lower-level stimulation, then I'll be fucked by the time I've had four or five of these injections."

Blair nodded his head. "I'm going to lay here, maybe take a nap. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay."

The dark blue eyes regarded him seriously for a minute. "I'm not kidding, Jim. I don't know what I'd do for you, but wake me up, okay?"

"All _right_, Sandburg!"

"You don't have to yell, man. I'm right here."

"I wasn't yelling."

"Uh-huh."

Blair punched the pillow he was curling his head on, determined to take a nap. Sleep was quickly being reduced to a form of escapism, but it wasn't like they had a lot else they could do. Lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling; sit at the table and stare at the walls. Talk, but talking seemed kind of superfluous right now.

His brain refused to shut down, however, and he found himself reviewing what little he knew about cock rings. They permitted erections but prevented orgasms. _I'll bet that thing is gonna start hurting after a while. Maybe not now; maybe not tomorrow. But if they make him wear it every day between now and...He's gonna be in some serious pain. Oh, man...Jim...I wish I could help. Make it better for you._ He shifted gingerly, not wanting to do anything that might make the situation worse for his friend.

Blair became aware of a hot hardness poking at the back of his leg, pressing slightly against his butt. He swallowed, then took a deep breath. "Jim?"

The voice that answered him was husky with an undercurrent of discomfort running through it. "Yeah, Chief?"

"You okay, man?"

"I don't know."

Blair raised an eyebrow and turned himself over, drawing a startled groan from Jim when his thigh made contact with the hard-on his friend was sporting. "I'm sorry, I--"

"Don't sweat it, Sandburg." Jim tried to smile; only his lips succeeded. "I'll be okay."

"Is it real uncomfortable?"

"Still tolerable right now...mostly...but it'll get worse." Jim shifted a little. "It depends entirely on how long they plan to make me wear it...and I didn't think it sounded like this was a one-time deal."

"No, it didn't sound that way." Blair shifted himself, very carefully, until he was lying, facing Jim. "How're the senses, man?"

"My body is on fire, Chief. Literally. Anywhere my clothes are touching, it's almost like it burns, my skin is so sensitive right now. I swear I can feel the molecules of air hitting against it."  
Jim breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with Blair's scent. In return, his cock hardened a little more and the pressure increased a little more. He shuddered.

"Jim--I really think you should take your clothes off. I'm gonna go sit on the bed, too, and get away from you. Whatever they gave you is...it's like it's fixating you on me. Almost like a pheromone thing. You're better off with me sitting at the table."

"No--"

"Yes. Now, I don't know a lot about how--cock rings work...and I have _no _personal experience with them...but I do know that if you're not gonna be able to get some release, then constant stimulation is _not_ a good idea. So come on, let's get you outta bed and get your clothes off."

"Blair--"

"Jim...don't hinder, okay, man? You don't have to help; in fact, it would be best if you just hold still. I'll take care of it, okay?"

Ellison shuddered as he climbed to his feet, holding his arms out for Blair to unbutton his shirt. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the brush of fingers against his highly sensitized skin. When a stray finger brushed over an aching nipple he swallowed the moan that tried to force its way out of his mouth. Blair had the shirt off and was reaching for his pants when his brain cleared momentarily and he caught hold of his hands.

"I'll do the pants, Chief."

"Yeah, right." Blair pushed away from him, hovering near the table. "Do you--have you ever...do you have any experience like this?"

Jim looked up at him, sweat shining on his face. "With cock rings?"

"Yeah."

"A little. I did an undercover in Vice where I hung with the leather set for a while. Those guys were big into the bdsm thing...so, I got my education a little more rounded than I'd originally intended."

"Wow." Blair's eyes were huge in his face. "You did...What'd you do?"

"Not nearly as much as you're imagining, I'm sure." Jim's voice was wry, matter-of-fact, and Blair grinned at him, the first true smile in days.

"You never know."

"Sure I do--I've had over a year to learn how your mind works. Right now you're imagining the worst about me." Jim finally eased his pants the rest of the way off, kicking them and the boxers into the heap on the floor. Blair picked them up.

"Not the worst, buddy. Just the possibilities." The smaller man considered his partner, keeping his gaze at least at chest level. _I can deal with his chest. I've seen that before. Hell, I've seen him naked before. But this is different. Very different._

"Go ahead, Blair."

He jerked his eyes back up from the center of Jim's chest at the softly spoken words. "Huh?"

"Go ahead and look. Might as well be now as any time." Jim shivered at the thought of some of the times that were coming, and his body grew warmer still.

"Lie back down, and try not to move around much. Um...let me move the blanket. I don't think the sheet will irritate you quite as much--it's not as scratchy." Blair moved while he talked, stripping the blanket efficiently from the small bed, hanging it over their chair. "Lay down."

"Who died and left you boss?"

"Didn't you read the memo?" The light chatter was hopefully serving to keep Jim's mind occupied a little, at least for a few minutes. "Man," Blair shook his head, "I sent that thing out about three times. Seems like no one read it." He watched covertly as his friend got back on the bed, his eyes tracking the large, angry-looking erection, emphasized by a tight leather ring circling the base of the penis. _That looks really painful. God, why'd they have to do that? Couldn't they believe that we weren't going to get him off? Jim has more control than that. Shit--what else is going to happen to torture us in some way?_

"You okay, Sandburg?"

"What?" Blair pulled himself back from his thoughts and realized that he'd been staring at Jim's cock. "Sorry, man. I was just thinking."

"I could see that." Jim gestured to himself. "It's not going to bite, y'know." _But it would sure like to try..._

"I know." Blair swallowed, then turned his eyes back to Jim. The erection really _did_ look painful. Hard, swollen, a small amount of liquid seeping from the tip, which was an angry purple color. "You can't come like that, can you?"

"Not without doing myself some serious injury, no." Jim closed his eyes.

"Can you dial down? At least your sense of touch? That might help."

"I don't think--I can try. My head is all fuzzy right now, like I'm wrapped in cotton or something."

"Like last night, when you said you felt like you'd drank too much."

"On an empty stomach, yeah." Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly, Blair watching as his Sentinel practiced easily now the controlling exercises that had been so difficult for him to learn and accept at first. The light blue eyes opened again after a couple of minutes. "It's not working, Blair. I can't make the dials focus right. I can't shut it down..."

"It's okay, Jim. Shhh..." Blair reached a hand out toward his friend, his natural inclination to touch asserting itself. When he realized what sort of an affect that could have he jerked his hand back like it'd been stung, reverting to verbal comforting. "Easy...remember, the control is still within you. Keep trying...the breathing will help, if nothing else. That's it--deep breaths. Lie perfectly still but for the deep breaths. Let your body relax...breathe out...in...easy...feel your body relaxing, Jim. The tension in it is slowly moving away. The heat is moving away with the tension...that's right..."

When the deep, slow breaths indicated his friend had entered the first stages of sleep Blair looked again. Jim's erection was fading. Not a lot, yet, but somewhat. He breathed his own sigh of relief and turned back toward the table to stare at the wall for a while.

 

Continued in Part 3

 


	3. Darkness Settling

 

  
Chapter 9

"Angels and Ministers of Grace, defend us."  
-_Hamlet, Act I, Scene I_

 

Blair was actually glad to see Yvelle return later that evening, day, night, whatever. The worst of the drug was obviously wearing off; Jim was more clear-headed than he'd been for a while, but he was still moving back and forth between flaccid and painful erections.

They'd spent the better part of the day talking, sharing thoughts about what they'd like to do when they got out of here; unspoken was the possibility that they might not. Both agreed that a vacation might be in order, so they passed some time discussing where to go and what to do. They were deep into that discussion when the door opened.

"So-did you enjoy your day today?" She asked as she unloaded the small tray that seemed to be ever-present with her. Blair glowered at her from where he'd gone to sit protectively by his Sentinel; Jim not being quite up to protecting at the moment and Blair feeling very protective himself.

_She asks that like we're at a fucking retreat or something!_ "Not particularly, no," he replied as civilly as possible.

"And why would that be?" Yvelle turned to face them, clucking in a mockery of sympathy. "My, my. Poor baby-couldn't even take care of that, could you?" She gestured playfully at the erection that Jim was again dealing with.

"Just take the damn thing off me," Jim managed, tired of the painful throb of arousal. It had ebbed considerably compared to the rest of the day, but he was sick of it all. _Jesus, I'm never gonna want to have sex again at this rate. _And this was not a good thought, considering that their lives hinged on that.

"Poor, poor Detective." Yvelle leaned in close, reaching as if to remove the ring. Instead she ran a cool finger down the throbbing flesh, then back up. Down again to cup the abused testicles, then stroking the hot flesh for a moment before abruptly releasing the ring.

Jim tensed and arched his body, a loud groan vibrating through gritted teeth, pain etched into his taut features. Blair shoved himself in between his friend and the bitch.

"That wasn't necessary," he hissed. "Haven't you tortured him enough for one day? Did you have to do that too?"

"Blair-" A hot hand gripped his. "Don't. Don't make it worse."

"Worse? How the fuck worse can it get?" Sandburg turned his attention toward the older man and missed the cold that crept into Yvelle's eyes.

"It can get a lot worse, Mr. Sandburg. And I strongly suggest that you drop the attitude before the Mistress is forced to take measures again."

The implication in her voice left no room for doubt as to _what_ those measures would be, and Blair swallowed hard as the fear eased through his body again. "Just leave us alone," he whispered. "Please."

"Well, until tomorrow morning, anyway. 'Night, boys. Have fun!" The airy tone to her voice made Blair wonder if she was suffering from multiple personalities. How the hell did someone change their whole self _that_ quickly?

He turned around to look at Jim, noted that the older man was still holding his hand, looking a little haggard. "Rough day, wasn't it?"

Jim nodded. "I don't expect they're going to be any better, either. This is our last meal, too, for a while. I guess we better make the most of it." He sat up and swung his legs over the edge. "Man, I could use a shower."

"Why don't you wash up in the sink, then put your clothes back on. I'll get stuff set out here." Blair lowered his gaze to their hands and Jim quickly released him, but not before the younger man felt a small tingle of ...something...race through him.

* * *

That tingle stayed with him for the remainder of their evening, such as it was. Dinner was eaten-every crumb of it. Neither one had felt much like eating during the day from all that was going on and now they relaxed just a little, full and sleepy and feeling ridiculously safe.

"Why?" Blair asked from his lounging position on the bed. "Why are we feeling safe? It's not like they couldn't come back in at any time."

"I don't think it's safe so much as numb, Chief. I don't know about you, but my brain can't process much more. It's like every time we figure they've done as much as they'll do, they do something else. Like with the whole cock ring thing. Yeah, they've threatened us with torture, death, whatever, but the truth of the matter is that the bitch wants her baby, and we're four days away from when it works best for her. At this point they might hurt us, but they want us whole and reasonably healthy, at least for another week or so. After that, I don't know." Jim watched his friend wiggle around until he was comfortable, the long curls falling this way and that. He had a sudden, nearly uncontrollable urge to wrap those curls around his hands and never let go. Blair cleared his throat and he looked up. "What?"

"You didn't hear a thing I just said, did you?"

"Guilty as charged." _Who can hear, see or think when you're so close...so tantalizingly close?_ A slow warmth spread through his system and Jim realized with a start that only the heightened effects of the drug were gone. It was still very much present in his system, though his system didn't seem much inclined to do anything about it, other than enjoy the tingles racing through it. "What'd you say?"

"Just that I hope you're right. I don't know how much more I can take."

"We'll make it, Chief." _That's it, Ellison. Pretend that you don't want to pull him into your arms and kiss him...make the hurt go away._ "Um...about the other thing we talked about? This morning?"

Blair rolled over and looked at him warily. "Yeah?"

"I think we should start that tonight. The slower the better...and we don't know how well you'll, uh, accept anal penetration."

A sudden panicked look covered Blair's face. "What if I can't do it at all?" _God, you're huge, man. You could rip me in two if you wanted. Or if you had no choice._

"I'll make sure you can do it, Chief. It's probably going to be uncomfortable at first-but we'll do this. Trust me. Please, trust me."

"I do, Jim. I can't not trust you."

"Do you want to get started?"

Blair sat up. "I guess so. It's not like I've got anything else I could go do." He paused, obviously nervous now, and uncertain. "What...I mean...do I need to-do anything?"

"You could go wash up, if you want. Take a few deep breaths and relax. If there're any problems, we'll stop, Blair. I'm not doing this to make you uncomfortable or anything. I want you to...well, I don't know if you'll enjoy it, but I don't want you hating it. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure." He slid off the bed and headed into the bathroom, then paused. "Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I'll hate it." The door closed behind him.

_Lord, I hope not,_ Jim thought, slowly removing his own clothing. He looked down at his genitals, wondering what the odds were of him actually achieving an erection during any of this. Probably less than nil. He was sore, still, and kind of achy all over-the achy you get when muscles are tense for too long without any release.

"Do you want me to leave the lamp on?" he called through the closed door.

"No."

Blair's voice was tight and Jim's heart ached for his friend. _If I could just transport us back in time or forward, or anywhere out of here...I'd do it in a heartbeat. _He sighed. "I'll be in bed, Chief. Come out when you're ready."

His sentinel vision compensated for the lack of light in the room and he crawled into the small bed, his own heart pounding nervously. It'd been ages since he'd initiated anyone, and he _had _to get it right this time. There was so much more at stake right now. First and foremost, Blair was his friend. He had to do right by him for that, if nothing else.

The door opened and for just a minute the light from in there illuminated his friend's body. Jim caught a glimpse of the well-developed torso covered with a fine mat of dark hair-nothing he hadn't seen before. Seen from the perspective of becoming lovers, whether they wanted to or not, it had a different effect on him. Warmth rushed through his system, flooding him with surprisingly tender and erotic feelings. No physical signs of arousal; he just wasn't going to be up to that tonight. But he could make this good for Blair.

"Come on over, Chief," he called softly, his voice a little huskier than usual.

The light snapped off, then back on. "I'm really nervous about this, man," Blair's voice trembled. _I want to do this. I need to do this. But God help me, I'm so scared I think I'm gonna throw up in a minute. _He left the bathroom, leaving the door open a fraction for a little light.

"I know you are," was the almost gentle reply. Jim left the bed and stood in front of him, his hand outstretched. "I'll help you. We can get through this, Chief."

His partner stood in front of him, trembling. Jim raised his hands to cup Blair's face, and  
whispered, "I won't hurt you, Blair. Trust me, I swear I won't. We'll make it through this. Can I kiss you?" He waited for Blair's tentative nod, then lowered his head to brush his mouth across the younger man's in a light, teasing kiss. A sweet, salty taste greeted him, and he returned for a deeper taste, pressing Blair's mouth open with his own.

Blair moaned low in his throat, but whether from fear or desire, Jim didn't know. He hoped it was desire. He didn't want to go too fast, but wasn't sure how slow to make it, either. He pulled away from his partner, and rubbed a thumb across the younger man's lips. "You okay?" he asked quietly, a big hand releasing its hold on Blair's head to gently stroke his face. They hadn't been allowed access to a razor since they'd been there, and the pale cheeks were dark with stubble. Jim found the scratchy softness very erotic as he stroked his finger across it.

"Yeah-just scared, " Blair breathed, the fingers on his face doing odd things to his pulse. "I know it's irrational, but it feels so _real_. Will you-will you kiss me again? It's...not so bad...when you kiss me." Blair swallowed hard and raised his eyes to look into Jim's.

"Oh, yeah, Chief, I'll kiss you," Jim growled low. There was an ache in the pit of his stomach, like a fire smoldering. One look at those incredible blue eyes coiled the tension in him tighter and he pulled Blair to him, mouth searching for all the sweetness his partner contained. Blair gave a small groan in the back of his throat and opened to him, allowing Jim's tongue to slide against his, the sensual friction of wet on wet nearly maddening. Jim gathered the smaller man as close to him as he could manage and began raining kisses across Blair's face and neck, pausing to suck at the soft skin he found there. He tasted so good, Jim was having trouble remembering why they'd never done this before. He licked the sensitive skin behind Blair's ear, and was rewarded with a soft, breathy moan. A quick dive in with teeth to nibble at that same spot, and Blair's head fell back, allowing Jim total access to that area.

"Let's get into bed," Jim breathed into the sensitive ear. Blair shuddered and nodded.

They faced each other on the bed, bodies close together. Jim leaned in and kissed Blair again, allowing his fingers to gently stroke through the soft hair on the younger man's chest. His lips moved everywhere, brushing across the wide planes of Blair's face, moving down over sharp cheekbones to nuzzle an ear, back up to graze over eyebrows and forehead. All the while his hands moved, stroking chest and sides, stomach and back.

"It feels good," Blair muttered, arching a little when Jim's fingers brushed over the flat nipples hidden in the luxuriant hair.

"It's supposed to," Jim said against the soft skin of his friend's neck. "I want you to enjoy this, as much as you can; to know I'll do my best to make it good for you, no matter what."

Blair brushed his own fingers across Jim's chest, noting the indrawn breath at his touch. "What about you?" he whispered.

"Not a chance in hell I'm up for anything right now, Chief." The older man drew back a little, his senses automatically cataloging Blair's responses to his touches and caresses. "Today was too much for me."

"Jim-"

"Hush. This is for you, to get you used to some contact. Don't worry about me." _It feels good just to be able to touch you like this. I can pretend, for a little while, that there's no one but the two of us...that you're here because you want to be, not because you have to be._

"Kiss me again?" The familiar voice was husky, a little breathless. Jim willingly obliged, opening his senses up fully to the experience.

He let his hand drift lower this time, brushing over the curve of buttocks, dipping briefly into the top of the cleft between. Blair stiffened, then relaxed as the hands just stayed there, gently kneading the soft flesh. Skillful fingers teased and caressed, pressing and rubbing, until the younger man was actually pushing his ass backward, meeting some of the touches part way.

Jim continued to knead one cheek, sliding a finger from his other hand slowly down the outer edge of the cleft, following the curve as it wound its way to Blair's scrotum. He sucked on the flesh over Blair's collarbone, nipping with his teeth, attacking his partner's senses from all angles. His reward was a tiny moan of acceptance followed by a wiggle that slid Jim's finger into the cleft.

The moan was a little louder, a little breathier when he trailed his fingertips up and down that sensitive area, at the same time lowering his head further to lick at a nipple. A small bud formed against his tongue and he drew it into his mouth, suckling hard, mind rejoicing at Blair's response so far.

He wet a finger in his mouth, wishing for lubricant, then traced a line back from the balls hanging there so temptingly. "Just one finger to start with, buddy. Just relax, go with the sensations." As he talked he rubbed his wet finger around and over the outside of the anus, feeling the little budded opening throbbing with heat. He pressed against it lightly, felt the resistance of tight muscle. "Try to relax, Chief," he whispered into Blair's ear, tonguing the outer edge.

"I'm trying...Ah! Jim!" Blair arched away from the finger.

"I'm sorry...I'm being as gentle as I can. Shh-just go with it." The finger slipped inside, barely breaching the muscle there. Blair tensed around him. "No, no...relax. I'm not going to hurt you. That's it..." Jim covered his partner's mouth with his own, stroking his tongue against the other's, tasting and touching. Blair relaxed around him and he gently pushed the finger a little further inside, his own body relaxing as the muscles loosened around him. "How's that?" he asked, breaking the kiss.

"Feels...weird...but okay, I guess." Blair nuzzled at Jim's neck and wished the circumstances around this were different. He knew he'd like to make love with Jim.

"Okay-I'm going to move it inside you now." The finger began moving around, thrusting gently, carefully. After a while, Blair started pushing back against the thrusts, pressing the finger deeper within his body. His breathing hitched a little and Jim felt the first stirrings of arousal spread through him from knowing he was doing this to Blair.

"Oh..." The younger man groaned when Jim removed the finger. "Why'd you stop?"

"Two fingers, Chief." The older man spat into his other hand and coated the two fingers liberally. "I'd give anything for some real lube. Here we go. Remember, relax..."

The fingers circled his hole again, teasing the outer edge, making him shiver. Blair closed his eyes and huddled against Jim, his body at war with itself. It felt so odd...but so good, too. The first finger slipped inside him again, then the second one followed. He gasped, the sensation of fullness increasing dramatically. "Jim!"

"Easy-just two fingers, Blair. Easy..." Jim murmured the words in his ear, then took Blair's mouth when the younger man turned blindly toward him, his lips open, inviting.

"I think...this is okay..." Blair panted, when they parted again. He could feel Jim thrusting within him, fingers moving carefully, slowly, opening him up. He shuddered at the thought of what else would be moving inside him in a few days, then pushed the thought away.

"Do you want to try three tonight?" Jim stilled his hand, just holding the fingers there, in Blair's body. The muscles tightened and loosened reflexively around him while his partner considered.

"No...I want to...I like it so far...let's don't push it."

"Okay." Jim withdrew his hand and leaned to kiss Blair. "Let me wash up real quick. Be right back." He pulled his clothes on quickly while he in there, then was back, sliding in to rest his warmth next to his partner. It was cool in this room and he wasn't surprised that Blair had dressed quickly as well. He felt a shiver run through the lean frame. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Blair said, daring to reach a finger up to stroke Jim's cheek. "Thank you, I think."

"You think?" The puzzled frown was evident in Jim's voice and Blair bit back a laugh, afraid it would sound hysterical.

"I'm not sure if I should be thanking you or not...I've never had anyone explain the etiquette in a situation like this." He paused. "I did like it, Jim. It felt really weird at first, but, man... But what about you? You didn't-"

"Neither did you," Jim hastened to point out. "This really wasn't intended to be sexual, Blair. I want you to be ready for when we have to have sex. I wanted it to feel good, and be good for you, but I wasn't worried about reciprocity."

"Oh." The younger man was quiet then, for so long that Jim grew worried. He touched his cheek.

"Blair? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was hoping...I guess...that you'd enjoy it, too."

"I enjoyed knowing that it was a positive experience for you. Anal sex isn't for everyone, and even though we didn't do _that_, you did okay with the penetration part. That's a good sign."

"It is?"

"Yeah, buddy. It is."

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I...would you...hold me? For a little while?"

"C'mere, Chief." Jim shifted them until they were spooned together. Blair sighed and settled fully against him, soft ass pressing into his groin. _Good thing I'm not able to have sex at the moment. Under normal circumstances, I'd have a boner so hard it'd send him running for the other side of the planet right about now. Or would it?_ Deciding that musings on his now extremely complicated relationship with his partner could wait until later, Jim brushed a kiss across Blair's shoulder and went to sleep.

* * *

They fell into a pattern of sorts for the remaining three days before the rituals were to begin. Yvelle and Chardis showed up each morning with two large women. Jim and Blair were restrained and the cock ring fastened on at the same time the injection was administered. After the second day Jim didn't struggle, but they restrained him anyway.

At night they lay together in the small bed they were sharing, Jim's fingers slowly, gently, stretching Blair out, readying him for what was sure to be a painful experience nonetheless. For as more of the drugs built up in his system, Jim began to doubt his ability to truly control his responses. He didn't think he'd lose control to the point of rape, but he doubted he would be as gentle as Blair needed-deserved-for at least his first time out.

They shared kisses and caresses, taking comfort from each other and the feelings they were learning they could rouse within the other. Jim never managed an erection. Too sore from the on-going restraints of the cock ring, he nevertheless enjoyed the warmth that spread through him when Blair's hands stroked down his body, lingering on his chest, his face, circling his navel. Never once did the younger man touch his cock; Jim wasn't certain if it was because he was afraid he'd cause Jim more pain, or if he just wasn't ready to go there yet. It wasn't until the second to the last night before the rituals that Jim touched Blair's. Then, primed from countless kisses, stroking, sucking and fingering, Blair exploded into Jim's hand. Afterward they snuggled together, enjoying the comfort and enjoyment they'd shared. Blair reflected that even if they did die at the hands of the madwoman holding them, at least he'd known once what it was like to have Jim as his lover.

***

The effects of the injection got worse with each administration, lasting long, being more intense. Blair watched Jim slowly writhing on the bed, his face taut with pain. Today was the final day. Tomorrow morning they'd be separated at dawn, taken away for purifying, then for the rituals themselves.

After that, near as they could figure, it was three days of sex intended to produce as much sperm as possible. They would be kept alive until Chardis either was pregnant or got her period. What would happen if she got pregnant, neither one knew. No one had said. They both knew all too well what would happen if she got her period. They'd seen the bodies of eight men who'd obviously been unsuccessful.

"Jim-can I do anything?" Blair whispered the words, afraid to speak too loudly.

"No...Yes...shit. Take it off me...please..." His body shuddered as the drug obviously surged through him and Blair winced, looking at the thick, hard erection that was nearly purple from tip to root now.

"Jesus, Jim..." _God, I want to, man. Don't you think I don't? I can't-they'd kill us. Or me. But is my life worth watching you practically dying in agony? How bad would it be for me?_ Blair shuddered, fairly certain he didn't want to find out. Neither did he want Jim to suffer any more. He reached his hand out, wavering, uncertain. The older man saw him and shook his head.

"Don't...don't listen to me, Sandburg. I'll survive." Jim panted, then rolled onto his side. "Talk to me? Take my mind off-this?"

"Sure, man. What do you want me to talk about?"

"I don't care. Just talk."

So he did. He chattered for the longest time, recounting some experiences he'd had with the Huwandi tribe in Eastern Africa, a fishing expedition in the Gulf gone awry when he was visiting with some cousins in Texas, and the different articles he'd read that had led him to Sir Richard Burton, and Sentinels-and ultimately to Jim. When he paused to take a drink from the cup sitting beside him he noticed that Jim's breathing seemed a little easier, the erection not quite so prominent. Maybe he could rest for a little while.

Even at rest though, Jim's body looked strained. Tight, tense, the muscles coiled from so many days spent in a constant state of arousal. Jim had told him last night, after he'd come, that the drug was hardly wearing off at all anymore. There was finally enough built up in his system that he always felt at least a little aroused. The only thing stopping him from getting an erection while lying with Blair was that he was too sore.

_I wonder how the women are expecting he's gonna be able to fuck me? If he's so sore that he can't get it up while we're lying in bed together, caressing each other, how's it supposed to happen when we're in an unknown situation?_ Of course, he had no idea what the circumstances would be, surrounding the fertility rites. And when he thought about it, sore or not, Jim got an erection now almost as soon as he'd received the injection. _Must be the stimulant. Wonder when the henbane shit comes into play? All the other pairs had it-well, the big guys did._ He gulped with the realization that, for the first time, he'd lumped them into the "all the rest" category. Shit. _I'm not ready to die, God. Not yet. Too many things to do, to say, to be. Too much left to experience in life. Please don't let me die in here. I trust Jim to get us out...but I'm thinking he's going to need a little assistance with this one._

A low moan from the bed jerked his attention back. Jim's face was white, sweat dripping off the end of his nose. He watched, mesmerized, as the large hand reached for the spitting, straining erection-

"Jim! No, man! Don't!"

His words jerked Jim out of whatever dream he'd been having and his hand fell weakly onto the bed. "Aw, man. Shit. I almost blew it, didn't I?"

"I think you almost caused yourself a lot of pain." Blair got out of the chair and started pacing. "We could try some cold compresses-that might help."

"It can't hurt." The weariness in Jim's voice was gut wrenching. Blair turned to get the towel and wet it.

He never got the chance. The door opened and Yvelle and Chardis strolled in. A couple of quick steps took him to Jim's side, where he hovered protectively. A look from Chardis sent him over by the table, reluctantly. Yvelle came to stand beside him.

"You look like you're in some pain, Detective." Their captor ran her hand down Jim's chest. Blair's heart skipped a couple of beats, then doubled when the hand continued down to the erection. "Want some help with that?"

"NO!" Jim shouted, his hips surging up off the bed when her hand wrapped around him. "Goddamn you to fucking HELL and back, woman!"

"Such language," she clucked in a mock-sad tone. "So you don't want any help with this?"

"Just take the fucking ring off."

"Ask me nicely."

"Please."

"You need to do better than that." She trailed her fingers up and down, lightly. Blair winced, watching Jim grit his teeth.

"_Please_, Chardis. Take the ring off."

"Very well, since you asked so nicely." She ran her fingers down his length again, then unsnapped the ring. "Have a nice night, boys. We'll see you early in the morning."

Jim lasted until the door shut behind the women before letting loose with a groan that seemed to have originated from his toes. His erection throbbed angrily, standing out from his body like it was made of steel.

"Jim?"

"Cold cloth, Sandburg..." he hissed. "Please."

They got the painful erection down and Jim curled in on himself and went to sleep, with hardly a word to Blair. The younger man sat next to his friend on the bed and watched him sleep, guarding him protectively. He ached from not having been able to do anything to prevent all of this, any of this. _At least tomorrow Jim will get some relief for all this._ His stomach tightened with that thought, because relief for his partner meant pain for him. In spite of the last several days, he _knew_ what it was going to be like...and he wasn't looking forward to it. _Well, as long as Jim's not hurting any more, I can handle anything. Anything._ He curled up next to the older man and smiled when Jim moved closer to him in his sleep.

* * *

  
Chapter 10

Our Father, which _wert_ in heaven...  
-Satanist Prayer

 

Blair woke with a strange prickling sensation raising the tiny hairs on the back of his neck. Something was wrong-very out of sync. He pushed himself up on one elbow, squinting in the blackness, trying to see what was throwing him.

"Whasmatter?" Jim asked groggily, moving against him.

"I don't know-something woke me up." Blair whispered, feeling absurdly like they weren't alone and he needed to be quiet or draw its attention. What 'it' was, he couldn't have said.

"Blair?"

"Shh. I don't know, Jim." He folded himself back up against his partner's chest, trying to pull into as small a ball as possible. A warm hand rubbed his back soothingly.

"You're probably on edge because-"

Because this is it. Jim didn't say the words; he didn't need to. Blair was as aware as he was what the significance of today was. It'd been explained very clearly to them. They'd be taken away for purification; led through a black mass, then dedicated to Satan's service. After that, they'd have sex.

"That's probably it." Blair still didn't raise his voice and he huddled a little closer to Jim, trying to draw strength from the bigger man. He was going to need all he could get for the upcoming days. "They're gonna be here soon," he said after a long pause. Jim held him a little closer.

"Yeah, they are."

"You think we'll be different after this?" _Of course we'll be different, what a stupid thing to ask. What I want to know, is will you still see me as your partner, your friend? Or will you see me just as someone you fucked- No, I know better than that. Where's this coming from?_

"Blair-what's wrong?" Jim tilted his head back to look at his partner, able to see the pale face in the dark of the room.

"I don't _know_." Sandburg pulled a ragged breath in, his entire body clenched tight with fear. "Nothing's changed."

"Everything's changed." _In a few more hours we're going to be doing something that neither of us ever foresaw doing. We never expected to get to this point; whether we wanted to-whether I wanted to-in real life, is immaterial. We hadn't planned on this. Will you still be my friend? My guide? My partner? Or will this eradicate all of that from our lives? Will you still want to lie here with me, knowing that I hurt you just a few hours before? Because God help me, Blair, I'm so afraid I'm going to, that I won't be able to control the beast I feel rising up inside me every time they shove that damned needle into my arm._

With a small groan of need that Jim had never anticipated he pulled Blair's face up to his and covered the smaller man's mouth; taking a kiss from him for the first time without asking permission first. He felt the smaller body tremble in his arms and released him, just holding him then, trying to convey feelings without words.

"I want to...protect you, Blair. But I don't know..."

"Jim-I know what they've been giving you. I know what it does to you. And I know _you_. I trust you. With my life." _And my heart, which pretty much belongs to you anyway._

The darkness closed in around them again as they lay there in each other's arms, friends about to become lovers through coercion, without choice; both men shaking with fear and need, trying to draw comfort and strength from one another.

* * *

Chardis and Yvelle came not more than an hour later. They were still lying in bed, huddled against one another, trying to pretend that none of this was going to happen. With the expected women came another, one that both had seen before but whose name they'd never learned. She was big, with a large, powerful body and strong-looking hands, and a no-nonsense expression on her interesting face. "Interesting" because she wasn't good-looking, in the conventional sense, but her features were very commanding. She exuded power, and Jim found himself wondering just exactly _who_ was in charge of all of this.

"This is Serita, Detective Ellison. She's going to be your personal bath attendant." Chardis had a mocking grin on her face with that, implying that he probably wasn't going to enjoy very much whatever it was they had planned. "Mr. Sandburg," the bitch continued, "Yvelle is going to be your personal bath attendant. You all will have so much fun together."

Blair did _not_ care for the way that sounded.

"Come on boys, out of bed," Chardis pulled the blanket back, reveling the two naked men, lying close together. "Tsk, tsk, maybe I should have left that cock ring on you, Detective."

"I wasn't in any kind of shape to do anything and you fucking well know it," Jim snarled at her, swinging his legs over the side. He could feel Blair's body shaking behind him. "Let's get on with this and get it over with."

"Oh, I don't think it's going to be accomplished quite that quickly or easily, Detective. You see, it's not just sex once, for the next couple of days-it's going to be as much as we can get out of you. We'll see to that." Chardis smirked at him, that mocking smile that he had quickly come to hate.

"You keep your potions and shit away from me. I told you I'll do what needs to be done, just quit drugging me!"

"Serita, the detective obviously needs to have his attitude attended to as well as his personal grooming. You'll see to that, won't you? But be sure to leave him capable of doing his duty, as well. Don't get, ah, too carried away with yourself."

The large woman inclined her head. "Never, Mistress," she murmured quietly, though Jim detected a hint of abrasiveness in her tone. "Detective-if you'll come with me," she said it politely, as if he had a choice, and for a moment Jim wondered if he truly did. Well, of course he did-live or die. Some choice. He didn't struggle in Serita's grasp; instinctively he knew it was useless. She was nearly as tall as Simon and as big around as Joel Taggart, and , he suspected, a helluva lot meaner than either of them. He knew he was going to the ritual bath, and hoped that Blair would be treated all right during his. The last sounds he heard before Serita steered him around a corner of the hallway were those of Yvelle leading Blair out of their room.

* * *

Blair followed Yvelle down the hallway, heart lodged somewhere in his throat. The last few days hadn't been so bad, as the level of fear in him had slowly subsided, assisted by Jim's attentions in preparing him for their sex. Minimal contact with Chardis had also helped keep the fear at bay. Now, however, it was reality. Not only were they going to actually have to do what they'd hoped to avoid, and have sex together, there were the unknowns: the Satanic ceremonies. Visions of the mutilated corpses they'd found all over Cascade slammed into his brain, and Blair blanched, shaking all over.

He was led-naked, for they hadn't allowed either him or Jim to dress prior-down a long brick and stone hallway to a small room that was fitted as a bathing room. Literally. Large, sunken tub and separate walk-in shower; along with a sink and toilet, and a massage table. There were several shelves over the sink, with towels and soap and some other items that Blair didn't want to think about.

"Lay down and draw your knees up," Yvelle commanded him, pushing him toward a low table fitted with a thin pad and a rubber sheet. He did as he was bid, heart hammering nervously, throat and mouth dry. The young woman rummaged around in the cabinet next to the table and removed a small bag and rubber tubing. Blair shivered when he realized what they were and what they were going to be used for.

"Can I have something to drink? Water?" he asked, praying for a respite, however temporary.

"No. The ritual process has begun. Nothing from now until you are finished." She busied herself filling the bag from the faucet, and Blair found himself hoping she remembered to at least use warm water. This was bad enough-cold water would be like torture. Yvelle turned back toward him, bag in hand. "Pull your legs up further, and relax. It's not going to hurt, you know."

"It doesn't have to _hurt_; it's still a violation." Blair closed his eyes as he felt Yvelle probing at his anus with the tip of the tubing. Violation aside, this was humiliating as hell.

"You're not being violated in any way, Blair." Her voice was light, conversational. Blair's eyes flew open in shock.

"You're putting something into my body that I didn't give permission to; making me take part in  
an activity I don't want to do. What would _you _call it?"

"Oh, yes...it really looked as if you don't want to be with your...lover." The tone in Yvelle's voice changed, became like ice trickling over his back. Blair felt himself flushing, both from shame and anger. He didn't understand the shame-he and Jim had done nothing, except lie together, close, taking comfort from one another. There was nothing wrong with what they were going to do, either, except that they were being forced to do it. Anger? Well, even a saint would be hard pressed not to be furious over this situation.

He felt as much as heard the little &lt;click&gt; when Yvelle released the clamp, and tensed slightly, waiting for the pressing sensation of water flowing into his body. A shudder passed through him as the water worked its way into him and Yvelle laughed, purposefully misinterpreting it. "Enjoying this, are you?"

He shuddered again. "No," he managed, trying not to clench up. Fighting it didn't do any good, and the sooner it was over, the sooner he could get on with the rest of it. He felt the groan work its way up out of his throat as his bowels filled. How much could he take? He'd never had an enema before...didn't know much about them. "Please..."

"Please, what?"

"Tell me-" A sudden cramp filled him and he gritted his teeth.

"Just relax, you're fine. Once all the water is inside you, then you have to hold it until you can't stand the pressure anymore. Then we'll go to the toilet."

"Ohhh..." Jesus, this was humiliating. He knew it wasn't supposed to be like this, with a crazy woman watching while he filled up, lying naked and exposed on a table in the midst of a cold room. He shivered from the chill and Yvelle smirked at him again.

At last the bag of water was emptied in to him. Blair stiffened a little, the pressure inside him filling but not uncomfortably demanding yet. He shifted a little, uneasily, waiting for Yvelle to remove the rubber tubing from him. "Just lay there until you feel the urge to go. Wait for it to get really strong-you'll know."

He laid there for several long minutes before the pressure intensified in his bowels. Yvelle watched him, and he shrunk back into himself, wondering again how this had happened to him-to them. At last he felt the urge strongly to have to go, and shifted himself up. "Now-" he cut off mid-sentence then as his body cramped from the combination of nerves and the water cleansing his body. Yvelle roughly helped him off the table and over to the toilet, then stood there with her arms crossed over her chest and another smug smile on her face.

"Please," he began, "can I have a little privacy for this?" _Please don't tell me you're going to make me take a shit while you watch, too. _She shook her head no, and his face blossomed crimson.

He felt the spasms begin, and couldn't control them; he shook violently for several minutes as he emptied the water into the toilet. There was very little actual waste; he hadn't had solid food in three days, so his body wasn't processing much. Still, it was a humiliating experience in the extreme. Yvelle stood by the entire time he was voiding, smiling an evil smile at him, as if she thought he was enjoying himself. He sat there for several minutes after he'd finished, until his legs felt strong enough to support him, before levying himself up. He then stumbled behind Yvelle to the tub where he would be ritually bathed.

"Do some deep knee-bends," she told him before letting him into the tub.

"Huh?" This was the oddest thing yet.

"Knee-bends. Squats? You don't want to be pushing water out while you're being fucked, do you?"

He shuddered again at the conversational, yet menacing, tone, then began squatting deeply. Blair could feel his face flush a deep, rich red when his body discharged some water, the waste running down his legs.

"See? Always pays to be diligent."

He nodded numbly and moved toward the tub.

The bath itself was almost nice; warm, soothing, cleansing. All he'd had for the last six days were birdbaths, of a sort, cleaning with water run in the sink. He'd washed his hair a couple of times, because it was too stringy and greasy to be borne, but hadn't enjoyed leaning over a small bathroom sink to do it. Blair washed himself thoroughly, soaping and rinsing several times, before he began to feel clean. Yvelle left him to soak for a little bit while she prepared some sort of anointing oil, and he took the opportunity to do some deep breathing and calming exercises.

_Nice and easy, Blair. You're gonna make it through all this, Jim's gonna make it through all this. You know that somewhere out there Simon and the rest of the department are looking for you... and I'm supposed to believe me? I just want to wake up in my own bed. No memories of this whole experience, preferably, but to just be home would be fine. Well, wait. If I had no memories left, then I wouldn't have the memories of the time with Jim..._

_Jesus, Sandburg! You need to focus on something else, here. _Blair shook his head, angry with himself. They were in a fucking life-likely-death situation and he couldn't get his mind out of the bed.

"It's time," Yvelle's voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up to see her looming over him, a towel waiting. On the table in front of the tub was a bottle of viscous liquid; presumably the oil.

With slow, precise motions, Blair climbed out of the tub and dried himself off. When Yvelle gestured to the table he sighed quietly and moved to sit on the edge, assuming he was going to be rubbed with the oil. He started when she pushed him onto his back then bade him draw up his legs again, her intentions suddenly crystal-clear.

"No...no, please..."

Her smile was icy-cold and predatory as she advanced on him, her oily fingers gleaming in the light.

* * *

Jim finished his bath, shaking in anger and frustration. The tub had been outfitted with water jets, and they ran continuously during the bathing; hundreds of tiny fingers set to stimulate him, rouse him further. Twice during the scrub down Serita had fondled him; hands grasping him none too gently. Jim wasn't sure if she was trying to arouse him, or intimidate him. Considering the person, he figured on intimidation. He set his mind on what was coming, and did his best to ignore her. He was able to do that, more or less, until Chardis showed up.

*She* wasn't content to just grope and fondle while bathing him; she climbed into the tub and smeared herself with soap, then rubbed her body around and against his. He found himself drawing back away from her, disgusted by the whole thing. She thought she could force him into a position where he was going to hurt his best friend, then turn around and expect him to welcome her advances? It was all he could do not to grasp her by the neck and snap it in two. He didn't give he and Blair a half percent of a chance of escape if he did that though, so he clenched his jaw and bore it. Chardis wasn't pleased with his refusal of her, and told him so.

"You'll pay for insulting me," she promised as she climbed out of the tub.

"I'm already paying-what more could you do?"

"You might not want to find out the answer to that question, Detective. Have a care-we still  
have your friend." She smiled a cold, evil smile at him, eyes glowing oddly.

Serita handed him a towel to dry himself, then approached with the now-familiar syringe. His heart pounded at the sight, because he remembered vividly how bad it had been yesterday when he'd received the injection. At least this time he'd be permitted some relief... He pulled back from those thoughts in horror, amazed he'd even thought them at all. To consider hurting his best friend, just for relief-!

Heat from the drug began coursing through him almost immediately, and why not? He was primed now, with the drug built up in his system like it was. All the new injection had to do was spark that. He felt the familiar dizziness and swayed a bit, then turned to see Serita watching him consideringly.

"I need to sit down until the dizziness passes." He refused to ask-he'd be damned if he asked any one of these bitches for anything.

She inclined her head, indicating a small bench near the wall. He sat down gratefully, his head spinning.

It took longer this time; he judged nearly a quarter-hour, if his internal clock could be trusted at all. Once the worst of the initial dizziness was past he was able function marginally; he refused to acknowledge the heat of the erection that was building and got to his feet. As was the case during the first effects, his tactile sense was heightened considerably and the molecules of air rushing past him as he moved caressed his skin, sending sparks skittering along his nerve endings.

_God help me, I'm not going to give in to this. I'm not going to take him like a fucking animal in rut. I'm not..._

"Come on." The large woman grasped his arm and shook it impatiently; he followed behind her, his defenses lowered, at least for the moment, by the drugs within him.

* * *

He was escorted, naked, to the ritual chamber. The chamber itself wasn't large, but gave the appearance of being so because of high, vaulted ceilings made of natural rock. _Where in the hell are we? Well, hell seems appropriate enough, anyway_. There was what appeared to be an altar in front of him; as well as a table, and some chairs. Candles and black cloth covered nearly every surface, and there was an incense fire burning in an open pit behind the altar. On the altar were several objects he couldn't identify, and didn't want to; along with several wicked looking knives, and a couple of stone bowls. Jim figured that if he went and looked, Blair's earrings were probably still up there.

Blair was already there when he arrived, and Jim frowned his concern for his friend. The younger man looked pale and shaky, and Jim could read the weariness in his eyes. What did they do to him? Whatever it was, they're going to pay. _Someone_ will pay for this.

He didn't have time for further thoughts; the women of the cult were moving into positions around the chamber. He was forced to his knees next to Blair, his own body firing again as he smelled the scent that meant so much to him. His partner was shivering, shaking a little bit, the bitter tang of fear mixed in with the light aroma that made up Blair Sandburg, and his heart went out to the younger man. _He knows. He knows what's going to happen...and even if he's resigned to it, he's still scared to death._ Just the thought of hurting Blair made him sick to his stomach, but even that wasn't enough to overcome the absolute lust and need that was racing through him.

There was frenzied activity up at the altar that drew his thoughts away from his partner and even away from the heat in his body, for a moment. With disgust curling through him he realized that he smelled blood now, the strong odor originating from the altar that he could no longer see clearly. A high-pitched scream echoed around the chamber walls, nearly deafening him, and when the bodies in front of the altar cleared, Jim could see clearly a young woman-probably no more than sixteen, if that, lying on the altar, bleeding profusely from a gash across her breasts.

Next to him Blair was making choking, retching noises, and Jim leaned fractionally closer, hoping to lend some of his strength to his partner. The gesture was obviously appreciated, because Blair leaned in also.

"Man, if they sacrifice her, I'm like, so outta here," Blair mumbled thickly around the lump in his throat. "I mean it, Jim. I don't care what happens to me in the trying-I can't stay here if they kill her."

"I know, Chief," the bigger man soothed, trying to quell his own rising nausea. "I don't think they're gonna kill her though." He jerked his chin toward the altar where the women were filing, one by one, to lean down and lick and suck at the wound, very obviously drinking the blood flowing there and just as obviously enjoying it.

Chardis appeared, dressed in a flowing black robe with strange symbols embroidered on it in scarlet thread. She stood in front of the girl, her hands spread wide, moving restlessly. Her words were oddly formal, yet intimate at the same time, and she stroked the inner thighs of the girl, her face carefully blank.

"You've given us the blood for the host, provided our nourishment for this most sacred of ceremonies. In different times, under different circumstances you would be sacrificed unto death; your virginity taken as an offering to our lord, then your body offered to soothe and appease his hungers." Chardis brushed aside her robe to reveal a large, strapped-on phallus, moving between the young woman's thighs and spreading them. The girl closed her eyes, a serene expression moving over her face. "Your virginity will still be offered up to our lord that he might pleasure himself; I will act as the conduit for this pleasure." The words spoken the older woman thrust herself into the girl, a radiant smile spreading across her face as a scream echoed and bounced around the chamber once again.

"The sacrifice of your body is not necessary now; we have others who will fit that sacrifice much better. The offering of your chastity has pleased our lord and his will shall be ours and his strength ours as well." She withdrew from the writhing body, the pale dildo stained red with blood where the girl's hymen had broken. In an oddly tender gesture she ran her fingernails down the girl's check, then smiled. "You have done well, Mycia. Prepare yourself now to join the rest of the ceremonies. Your sacrifice in our cause will be noted and remembered."

The young woman nodded and sat up, assisted off the altar by one of the other women who also guided her out of the chamber.

Jim felt his hackles rise when Chardis moved in front of them, standing at the altar. She'd removed the phallus and was there now, in only a black robe, staring heatedly at them while Serita bent to draw a large pentagram in a circle around Chardis' feet. His attention focused on the area in front of them. He would swear he could see the air currents shimmering with electricity now, the swirling, bright currents moving with purpose.

The women of the cult gathered around them and Jim was astonished to find that there were several dozen all together. One woman held out a tray containing what looked like small black triangles; when he and Blair were prodded to take one and put them in their mouths he discovered they tasted much as he remembered the wafers of the host tasting from church services in his youth.

A black chalice studded with blood-red jewels of some sort was raised and although Jim could hear Chardis' mumblings he could not make out the words. A rough hand forced his mouth open and the chalice was held to his lips; unwillingly he swallowed, tasting, to his surprise, wine. Next to him Blair gagged as the procedure was repeated. The chalice was handed back to Chardis and she drew fingerfuls of the rich liquid and scattered it over the crowd of women like raindrops. Jim shuddered in painful surprise when the large group thundered as one, "_Sanguis eius super nos et filios nostros_."

"What the hell does that mean?" he mouthed to Blair, leaning as close as he dared.

"I don't know," his partner mouthed back. "Something about blood and children, but I don't know Latin that well."

The group of women, led by Chardis, with Serita immediately to her right, began reciting what both men quickly recognized as a perversion of the Lord's Prayer:

"Our Father, who wert in Heaven  
Hallowed be thy name  
Thy Kingdom come  
Thy will be done  
On Earth as 'tis done in Hell..."

The second time through the prayer, another chalice was lifted up, and blessed by the madwoman standing at the head of the altar. A black chicken was raised, and its head bitten off by Serita and the blood of the body drained into the chalice. Again the chalice was held to Jim's lips; he gagged as the warm fluid touched his lips, but he wasn't forced to drink this time. Blair wasn't forced either, and Jim found himself wondering why they'd been made to drink the wine but not the blood. _Interesting, _he thought, his whole body still shuddering from the feel of it against his lips. _I wonder if they'd have pressed the issue if I'd actually put up a fight. Then again, this is their show now. There's probably very little that they couldn't make us do, at this point. _As if to prove his own point, Jim became conscious again of the insistent throbbing in his body, not helped at all by the slow, steady drum beat in the background that was now pulsing in time with his heart and blood.

Then the drum stopped, and Jim was drawn out of his musings by rough hands grasping him around the forearms. He was pulled abruptly toward the altar, not given the chance to walk or assist. _Is that it? Is the service over?_ Although far from an expert on black mass, he was fairly certain there was to be more to it than that...but perhaps this was a combined ceremony of sorts, since they, or at least **_he_** still had to be dedicated to Satan's service.

A sharp sting in his arm focused his attention and he nearly roared in frustrated rage as he realized he'd been injected with the drugs again. He could feel the burning he already was experiencing increase suddenly. _No, no...don't do this to me; don't do this to us!_ He cried aloud in his head. How was he going to control himself? He could barely control the feelings it engendered as it was. How was he going to manage another dose? He would, though. _I won't hurt Blair; I can't. He trusts me, believes in me. Knows my strengths better than I do._ Jim looked up and found his guide's eyes with his own, felt the trust and caring...and love...pouring from Blair to him through that connection.

The connection was interrupted, although not broken, when Serita and Yvelle grasped him again by the forearms and forced him down onto a table that had been drug in front of the altar. He was positioned, laying face up, and tied, arms and legs spread-eagled. Jim watched Blair's face, saw his friend blanch when they tied him down. His own heart was pounding like a runaway train in his chest; he was certain that the bitches could hear it. It sounded like thunder in his ears. A high-pitched keening caught his attention, nearly shattering his eardrum. He winced in pain, and dimly heard Blair say softly, for his ears only; "dial down". He nodded, and tried to focus, but was unable to make the dials work well. How did you focus on something like that when your entire existence was suddenly narrowed to the burning in your cock and the desire to thrust into whatever warm, willing body was offered as available? That thought bounced his brain, sending humiliation coursing through him as he realized that he was lying there, for anyone to see, his dick standing totally erect, straight up from his body. And he couldn't do a damn, fucking thing about it, as aroused as he was right now.

Jim kept his head turned, maintaining eye contact with his guide, who'd also been pushed forward, then forced to his knees in front of the table, his head held firmly in place, to watch whatever was going to happen next. Whatever the ceremony Chardis was performing, Jim was obviously now the star participant and all eyes in the small chamber were transfixed on him. He kept his focus on Blair, the light in the dark blue eyes holding him steady when the world around him wavered and shimmered, as more of the drug worked its way further into his system. A horridly loud crashing noise broke his concentration and he winced, his eyes flickering from Blair to Chardis. She was addressing someone, calling them forth. Satan. The dedication portion of the ceremony was here, then.

"Come to us, Dark Lord, our Master, our Beloved. Bestow your power upon us, mortal and weak to your greatness. Bless me with your power, your greatness. Conceive within me a child, to rule the earth while you rule the netherworlds. Hear me, oh Dark Lord, and grant me this. I offer this man before us, he will provide the vessel through which our child will be achieved. I am the conduit for your power, he is the receiver. The child will be yours. To show my loyalty, I give you this offering of flesh and blood, to be consumed at thy will, according to thy will: "

With those words Chardis approached him. She now held a long, wicked looking knife in her hands, and he tensed, remembering the intricate carved patterns on the bodies of the four large men they'd found. He could hear Blair breathing rapidly in and out, and knew his friend was on the verge of hyperventilating. He considered it himself as Chardis loomed over him, knife poised. She brought it down quickly, sharply, and stopped just short of fully penetrating his skin. The blade still hurt, as it cut into his skin, and Jim sucked his breath in sharply. Chardis smiled down at him as she began carving a delicate, curved design on the inside of his thighs. He shuddered and bit down on the groan that was trying to escape, his sense of touch out of control from the drugs. After marking each thigh she moved the knife and repeated the pattern higher up, on his abdomen, just below his navel. Jim found himself trying to focus enough to dial down on his sense of touch...but it was not in his control any more than hearing had been a little while ago. With a deep, shuddering breath he clenched his teeth and tried to focus on something else.

Blair watched in horror as the madwoman holding them brought the knife down, cutting into the pale flesh of Jim's spread thighs. He could see red now, where the blood was beginning to well up; watched his friend's face clench tightly as the pain worked its way through a body already overly stimulated from drugs and other outside stimuli. Jim's jaw worked and Blair knew he was clenching it hard, to keep from making any sounds that would alert Chardis-or anyone else-to the fact that this was hurting him badly.

As the grad student watched, the sheet beneath Jim started to turn red with the blood that ran dripped freely now from his wounds. A small sob worked its way up and out of Blair's throat and he tried to turn his head away, the hands holding him preventing him even that. He closed his eyes briefly, then realized that he needed them open, needed to watch Jim, be there to offer what tiny amount of solace and comfort he could, if Jim chanced to look at him again. His eyes opened, a small surge of determination sparking through him. This was just the beginning; things would be far, far worse before they were better. The least he could do was remain present for his partner...his lover.

Jim clenched his jaw tighter and closed his eyes, his mind seeking an escape; anything would do at this point. One of the meditation exercises Blair had taught him. The next fishing trip they were going on. Simon's cigar smoke. Blair's lips on his. The last thought snagged him, and he lost himself in the sensation of the memory. A hard slap across the face brought him back to reality, along with the sensation of fingers running up and down his erect cock. He squirmed slightly, feeling himself harden further, his cock burning with its need for release. The drug was searing through his system now, and the only reason he'd forgotten it temporarily had been his concern over the knife. But even now, still feeling his blood dripping down his legs, Jim couldn't stop the fever from spreading throughout his system.

He arched into the hand that was stroking him, a groan of shame breaking from his lips. Chardis smiled, a cold, cruel smile. She stroked Jim and tilted her head back calling, "See, my Lord, the power we have over this man. He is ours, to do our bidding. I offer you his blood, gathered by cutting his flesh; burned in sacrifice to you." The sheet under Jim was pulled out, and thrown onto the incense fire; a heavy, acrid smoke rising as it caught fire and burned. "I offer his services, and that of his lover, another man. In an unholy act of passion and defilement they will provide the means for you to enter this world in human form. We thumb our nose at he who claims to be God, who cast you from the heavens where you should have ruled. Look, my Lord and Master! This man is ready to serve you! He is ready!" Chardis called attention to Jim's cock, standing up straight, stiff and hard. She rubbed her hand down its length again, stroking him hard, and Jim felt rage course through him, competing with the fever for his attention.

He turned his head to look at Blair and met the younger man's eyes; calm, steady, supportive, Blair was there, watching him, waiting for him, ready to help him in any small way he could. In direct contrast, Jim could hear his heart beating fast, thready and erratic. He found himself staring into the younger man's eyes, transfixed by the depth of the smoky-blue pupils, finding a strange peace and tranquility there. He felt, perversely, that he could weather anything with Blair beside him, even knowing the reality of their situation was not good. Tears sprang into his eyes, and he thought he caught a glimpse of moisture in Blair's, reflecting from the many candles burning in the small room.

_I love you, Blair. I know you're here for me...will always be here for me. I don't know what's going to happen to us when this is all done. Well, I do...but I don't want to know. I wish this could have happened under different circumstances; we'd have been so good together, I think. Everything we are, we could have made that even better than it is now. I'm sorry, Chief. I'm sorry for every fucking instance I've ever not appreciated you; for everything that has happened to you because of me, because of knowing me. And I'm so sorry that this is happening now, that I can't do anything to prevent it. Forgive me, Blair...please. Someday, somewhere, maybe some other time, but please forgive me._

The younger man met his partner's gaze with as much calm as he could force into his eyes. _Jim needs me to be strong for him...for me...for us. Right now, I have to do this for him. I have to. There is no choice, nothing else offered._ He felt the emotions flowing between the two of the them and shivered lightly in his captor's hands, feeling suddenly as though, for all the activity around them, that he and Jim were the only two in this room, their lives and hearts and feelings hanging suspended in this gaze drawn between the two of them.

Loud moaning and strange thrashing, grunting noises broke the spell that had been woven between Sentinel and Guide, and Blair found himself watching in disbelief as the women around him began breaking off into pairs and small groups. He was shocked almost into speech when the women began pleasuring each other; bodies rubbing against bodies, fingers and mouths touching intimately against the hot flesh of each other. His eyes jerked back to look at Jim and he watched as his friend's body arched helplessly into the hand that was still stroking him, a hard cruel smile on the face of the bitch doing it.

As he watched, Jim's face contorted, his body trembling as the effects of the drug, and the visual, audio and tactile stimuli began driving him to a fever pitch. For the first time since this madness had begun, Blair allowed himself a real shadow of doubt, of fear, that Jim would be able to control this fever that was burning inside of him. His eyes darkened in fear at the thought of what would happen to him if Jim _couldn't_ control it, and he shivered again, the sounds of sex around him repulsing him, adding to the growing fear.

Jim moaned and thrashed his head, the sounds and smells of sex and arousal all around him, burning into him. The feel of a hot hand stroking him, bringing him just to the brink, over and over again, but never letting him finish, never granting him the release he needed. His balls were so heavy, so hot; they ached so bad from the constant state of arousal he'd endured for days now. The only thought burning in his brain was that he had to come...had to have release, and it had to be soon, before he died from the strain.

Abruptly he was released, his cock pulsing madly, straining into emptiness that had been a hand. He opened his eyes to see Chardis grinning down at him, her own eyes dark with arousal and with a mad gleam that he shuddered to see.

"You'll do fine, Detective," her voice was a deep, husky purr, winding its way through him, teasing him further. "You're going to be taken back to your room now, and you're going to take your little partner and fuck him-make him scream, detective. I want him to scream...I want him to know the perversion you're doing to him."

The tone was seductive, the words made him sick to his stomach. "Why...perversion?" he managed to get out through clenched teeth, his whole body shaking as the restraints holding him were severed.

"Because it's surely unholy and perverted for two men to come together, spilling their seed where none can take root. Doesn't that seem like waste to you?" Her eyes glittered coldly, the cold fire of her madness burning deep within them.

Jim shook his head, not able to make the effort to wonder why it was all right for the women here to pleasure each other, but have it be wrong for men. His brain was barely forming coherent thoughts as it was...he needed to save his energy, his few present brain cells, for what was coming. The last of the bonds was severed and he was helped roughly to his feet, then grasped by the arm and led through the room, the women no longer paying attention, all bodies combined into one large, writhing mass on the floor. He was aware of Blair being roughly pulled to his feet, and pulled along behind him, but found he was having trouble concentrating on anything other than his body's needs.

They were led back to the small room they'd lived in for the last week, and shoved roughly inside, neither woman who'd escorted them sparing them a glance. Chardis and Serita, who had followed just behind came into the room for a moment, staring at the two of them. Chardis raked her eyes over each man briefly, then smiled again, her fingers stroking over Serita's breast as she spoke.

"Remember, Detective...he's supposed to scream."

The women turned and left the room and the only sound that filled the sudden, chilling silence, was the &lt;snick&gt; as the lock turned and engaged.

* * *

  
Chapter 11

...I am thy mate, I am thy man  
Goat of thy flock, I am gold, I am god,  
Flesh to thy bone, flower to thy rod.  
With hoofs of steel I race on the rocks  
Through solstice stubborn to equinox.  
And I rave; and I rape and I rip and I rend  
Everlasting, world without end,  
Mannikin, maiden, maenad, man,  
In the might of Pan.  
Io Pan! Io Pan Pan! Pan! Io Pan!

-Aleister Crowley, _Hymn to Pan_

 

"They're watching us."

Those were the first words Blair spoke to him in the five minutes they'd been back in the room, staring at each other.

"How do you know?" If their captors were watching, or even anywhere nearby, Jim wasn't aware of it. All he could focus on was his partner, backed against the wall and staring at him, and his own pulse pounding through his body. They needed to do this soon. He needed release. He _had_ to have it!

His partner shrugged. "I just know it. Especially after that last comment." Blair shuddered, his eyes dark with fear.

Jim's heart clenched tight again. "I'm not going to rape you," he whispered, his eyes catching and holding the smaller man's. "I swear to god, I'm not going to hurt you, Blair...I'll kill myself first. You believe me, don't you?"

There was a tinge of desperation in the older man's voice and Blair felt his stomach roll over. "I believe you," he said slowly, his voice low and hoarse. "I trust you, Jim. But help me out here, man...I'm running blind. What do...what do I need to do?"

Jim flinched, almost as if his words had hurt him. "I need to come," he breathed, his eyes hot when they met Blair's again. "I have to have release, Blair. My- I hurt so bad right now, from holding it back for so long."

Sandburg lowered his gaze to really _look_ at Jim's cock. It was an angry purple color at the tip, and wet, gleaming with moisture from the pre-cum that had oozed out. The shaft was hard and thick and almost visibly throbbing with need. He swallowed hard. "Okay," he said, softly. "Let's...let's do it."

Ellison stared at the younger man, taking in the spasms of shivers that were racking the lean frame. "You're scared to death of this, aren't you? God, Blair, I wish I could help you...make you not scared. I wish I had the time and the patience to do this right. I know we-practiced-a little bit...but this isn't the way it should be for a first time...not when I'm barely hanging on to my sanity. I'm going to fuck this up, and you're gonna hate me..."

Hands on his shoulders surprised him, as did the heated blue eyes staring into his. "You're not going to fuck anything up, Jim, and I'm _not_ going to hate you...Christ, I might as well try to hate myself!" Blair's voice hissed at him, sibilant in its warning. "It's _not_ your fault that we're here! That we have to do this! Don't you get it? You're as much a fucking victim as I am, Jim!" Slender hands tightened on his arms, gripping the biceps there, holding on as much for support as anything else. "All I have to do is bend over, and let you fuck me, let you come inside me. Jim, man, you're the one they've tortured, with drugs and cock rings...you're the one that they...they c-cut-"

Blair's voice thickened, then choked altogether on the last word and Jim found himself dragging the smaller man into a rough embrace, his face buried in Blair's curls as his partner clung to him, dry heaving sobs shaking his body.

"Shhh..." he whispered, nuzzling at the curls, trying to soothe. "I'm okay, Chief...it's okay. We're gonna make it, I promise. Shhh..." The body clinging to him molded itself a little tighter to his, and Jim felt his erection throb anew as the soft dusting of hair across Blair's belly and thighs, and the thick, luxuriant bush at his groin rubbed sensuously against a body already hot and aroused.

"Kiss me," was the ragged request, from somewhere around his neck. "Make me forget...make me feel safe, Jim."

"My-I make you feel safe...when I kiss you?" Surely he'd heard that wrong-that couldn't be what Blair had meant to say.

"Yes," his partner breathed, tilting his head back, his eyes meeting Jim's, his gaze scared, but determined. "Please. Kiss me."

He didn't need another invitation. He lowered his mouth to the tempting one before him, groaning low in his throat when bolts of pure electricity shot through his body at the touch of those warm lips against his. God, this was so good...he groaned again, his hands rising to cup Blair's head, tilting it back a little while threading his fingers through rich, soft curls. His partner gave a little whimper and opened wider for him, a soft, wet tongue snaking out to tease his own into following.

The world around them melted away as they melded into each other's mouths, tasting, teasing, and exploring. Jim quivered in pleasure when Blair took an active role in exploring, sweeping his tongue through Jim's mouth, stroking it over the older man's slowly and sweetly. White-hot fever burned through him and his cock shuddered against the younger man's thigh, each wave of arousal pushing Jim higher, winding him tighter.

Blair groaned and trembled within Jim's arms as the heat from their kisses threatened to overpower him. They'd kissed before; just yesterday, actually, but these kisses made those seem like the chaste pecks of affection you would greet a friend or relative with. These...these were searing, mind numbing; earth shattering in their intensity. He actually whimpered again when the hot mouth feeding off of his left it and moved lower, nipping and sucking at his neck and the soft underside of his jaw, the hot tongue stroking him. This time his moans and whimpers were for the intense sensations being called up in him from the mouth on his neck, and he shuddered over and over again in the loose circle of Jim's embrace.

Jim licked, kissed and sucked, soothing each sting as he made it. He was startled, and pleased, when he felt his partner's hands leave his waist, where they'd rested lightly, and rise to grip at his biceps; one hand reaching to pull his mouth back to Blair's. He acquiesced, and returned to that pleasure-and it occurred to him that he'd never enjoyed kissing _anyone_ as much as he enjoyed kissing Blair. A tiny part of his brain warned that he wouldn't be able to withstand this delicious torture for long; no matter how good it was, he needed completion. He gave over to the sensations whirling through his mind and body, multicolored pinwheels spiraling around madly...

"Jim? Jim...c'mon, big guy...don't zone out here..." his partner's voice, calling to him through the swirling vortex of color and sensation, leading him back from wherever he'd been. Jim opened his eyes to see Blair staring up at him, chest heaving from their activities.

"I'm sorry, Chief. You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He stared anxiously into his partner's eyes, searching for the truth.

Blair marveled at the concern in Jim's voice. And something else was there...caring...but more even than that. He stared into Jim's eyes; the pupils dilated almost completely, the sky blue nearly obscured by the blackness. Hot eyes, filled with need, filled with desire, filled with... What? Blair wasn't willing to name that other emotion yet-he was still too uncertain of everything happening to them now. But he knew that if he could trust Jim with his life, he could trust him with this most precious and intimate of activities. He wound his arms up around Jim's neck, pressing his body closer to his friend's. "Do it, Jim. Make love to me," he breathed into the older man's ear, nuzzling the soft skin he found there.

Jim released a long-held breath, along with a deep groan of lust and desire. He'd been so afraid that Blair wouldn't be able to do this willingly, no matter his intentions. Another groan rose up from his throat as the younger man's tongue traced a path down his neck, pausing to nibble at his collarbone. He grew dizzy from the sensations of having Blair-a willing, participating Blair-in his arms. He ran his hands up Blair's arms until he was cupping the younger man's face once again. As soon as their lips touched, his fingers began weaving their way again into the long, curly hair. It felt like rough silk against his fingertips, and Jim gripped a handful to hold Blair's head steady while he plundered his mouth. He felt the desire rising to a fever pitch in his body and knew he wasn't going to be able to control it much longer. He tore his mouth away from the delicious heat with effort.

"Blair-we need to hurry on this, buddy. I can't hold back much longer."

His partner looked up at him, eyes dark and luminous with desire. Jim could feel the younger man's body pressed against his, cock beginning to swell and harden. He ran his hands down Blair's sides, and brought one between their bodies to stroke the burgeoning erection, while the other moved around to gently knead the soft skin of Blair's ass.

"Do what you have to, Jim. I'm ready."

"Are you sure, Chief?"

"As sure as I'm gonna be, man." Blair's voice held a hint of humor in it, and Jim felt relief course through him.

"You're okay with this?" Gentle hands began tentatively stroking his back and buttocks, and the fever burning in Jim's blood leapt up another notch.

"I'm okay with this. I want you..." Blair gasped as Jim's fingers encircled his cock and started stroking in earnest.

"I want you, too, " Jim responded, leaning to kiss Blair's neck. "Oh, god, do I want you..."

"Then do it, Jim," the younger man responded softly. He sucked his breath in as he felt Jim's finger begin to probe between his cheeks, running lightly up and down his cleft.

"Let's lay down. I want you to be as comfortable as we can manage." Hurry, hurry, hurry, his brain chanted relentlessly. He ignored that, as well as the part of his brain that was replaying the command from Chardis to make Blair scream. _He's going to enjoy this, at least a little bit, if it kills me_. Jim gently pushed his guide down onto the pallets behind them, and laid on top of him, pushing one of his knees between Blair's legs, parting them. His mouth closed over Blair's once again, and he began moving his body against the younger man's, rubbing their cocks together.

Blair groaned at the sensations flooding his body, and he realized with a start he was no longer scared or fearful. He trusted Jim, implicitly, and cared for and about him strongly. Memories of the past several days, of lying in Jim's arms being caressed and kissed and petted flooded his mind, increasing his desire for his friend. He raised his hips slightly to undulate against Jim in a counter-rhythm. A large warm hand stole down his chest, and Blair gasped against Jim's mouth when the older man started gently pinching his nipples. Jim moved away from him then, and Blair whimpered with the loss of sensation, until he felt warm lips gently nipping their way down his body. He groaned aloud at the first touch of lips and tongue against one of the now-hard buds, as Jim began sucking on his right nipple. The exquisite torture continued until Blair was writhing in pleasured agony beneath the larger man; his swollen, aching nipples now sensitive to even the lightest touch.

"Got to have you, babe," Jim muttered as he released Blair and turned him over onto his stomach. The sight of the younger man's ass elicited a groan. "I can't wait any longer-I don't want to hurt you by waiting too long and not being able to hold back."

"D-Don't wait..." Blair panted, his breath coming in short bursts. "Do it, Jim..."

Ellison sucked one finger into his mouth, then parted the tempting cheeks. The tender rose of muscle that protected Blair's passage quivered slightly as the cool air swirled past it. Jim rubbed his finger gently over the small pucker and frowned at the light, oily feeling beneath his fingertip.

"Blair-did someone else...touch you?" Jim carefully pressed his finger harder against the pucker and the muscle gave way slowly for him, the oily sensation more concentrated inside.

"Ohhh...Yvelle...she said it was to...to 'anoint' me...ahhhh...but I think... it was just to humiliate me."

The Blessed Protector inside him heard the tremulous quality to Blair's voice even through the passion that was beginning to thicken it, and Jim vowed that this was yet one more thing to hold these women responsible for. _No one_ messed with his guide. No one.

He began a gentle thrusting motion, and felt Blair relax slightly around him. After a minute or so, he pulled his finger out and spat into his hand, then slicked up two fingers. Blair moaned softly, but stayed fairly relaxed as the muscle was breached again, and slowly stretched. As he began to enjoy the gentle thrusting motions, Blair started pushing backward against Jim's hand. The older man's cock grew even harder watching his partner and he groaned loudly.

"Ahhhhh....god!" Blair shook when Jim replaced the two fingers with three, and twisted them around inside him. "Jim! Please...Oh!" Blair arched against the fingers as Jim scraped them over the younger man's prostate gland. He wiggled against Jim's hand, and the older man helped him up onto all fours, fucking his fingers slowly in and out of his partner's body; stretching and loosening him carefully. Blair wiggled again, pushing back against his hand, and Jim gritted his teeth at the sensuousness of the motions and pulled away from him.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," the younger man panted. "Do it."

Jim spat again into his hand, and repeated the gesture once more; then began rubbing the saliva on his throbbing cock. Combined with the pre-cum that had been oozing for quite a while now, it would provide adequate, if not great, lubrication. He positioned Blair, then knelt behind him. "Here we go, Chief. Try to relax as much as you can..." Jim trailed off as the tip of his hard organ finally made contact with what it wanted so badly. He took a deep breath and began gently pushing into his partner's-friend's-body.

Blair tensed and groaned when he felt the swollen member pushing against him. He gritted his teeth and lowered himself onto his arms slightly, trying to improve the angle for Jim and make things a little easier for both of them. He knew he'd just taken three fingers; had taken them and wanted more, but...god, Jim was so big-it wasn't possible that he'd fit in there, was it? He panted, trying to relax, but the pain of his body stretching to accommodate Jim's wasn't allowing for much of that.

"Ahh..." Jim gasped as he grabbed Blair's hips and pushed a little harder. "Relax, Blair... C'mon...you've got to relax..." Jim felt the muscles give slightly, and the head of his cock slipped past the tight ring, finally gaining him entrance. He held still. "Okay, Chief?" he questioned in a hoarse voice as he tried to catch his breath. His blood felt like it was boiling in his veins, and it was taking all the self-control he'd never known he possessed to _not_ shove himself in to the hilt.

"Hurts..." Blair panted, his body straining away from Jim's.

"I know..." Jim smoothed a hand down Blair's back, trying to soothe a little. "Hang on, Chief. Almost there." He drew another deep breath and started slowly pushing himself in again.

Blair bit his lip. God, it hurt! He didn't think it would hurt this bad...he'd expected some  
discomfort; maybe a little pain... He took a deep, cleansing breath, trying to find his center, his focus; tried to relax, but it felt like his entire lower body was on fire now-like he'd been split open, in half. His erection was gone-had disappeared with Jim's first thrust. There was no way he was going to enjoy this, but it was better than the alternative. At least Jim was sparing him rape... Not that he ever really thought that Jim would allow that to happen. He realized with a start that the pushing had stopped, and Jim was holding still behind him again, breathing rapid and harsh.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?" Jim's voice was a hoarse growl, and it echoed through him, the resonance vibrating inside, making him quiver a little bit.

"You all the way in?" God, he sounded shaky!

"Yeah. God, Chief..." _You feel so good_, he finished in his mind. Hot, tight, totally surrounding him. He'd never felt anything so good in his life. "You okay? Blair?"

"I think so...can you-give me a minute? I feel...like I've been stretched or split apart."

"Still hurt?"

"Not-exactly. Burns though. I feel like I'm on fire." Even as he spoke Blair was panting a little, trying to focus his breathing enough to let him relax. His body felt like it was a clenched fist, with a white-hot poker shoved inside him, burning him.

"I _am_ on fire, buddy. My entire body is burning up. I need to move, Blair. Gotta move...but I don't want to hurt you-"

Blair's stomach flipped over at the concern, the _caring_ he heard in Jim's voice. "Go ahead," he whispered. "I'll be okay."

Jim took a deep breath, grasped slim hips in his hands and pulled back. He thrust in, feeling the sensations shoot through all the nerve endings in his body, screaming into his brain. He thrust over and over into Blair's body, nearly mindless with his need; not hearing the gasps and whimpers that began turning into little pants and moans as Blair's body accepted, then responded to the sensations. His first indication that Blair was participating at all was when he realized that his friend was pushing back slightly to meet him. Jim smiled through the haze of lust that was clouding his brain, and he reached a hand around to help out. He frowned with he discovered that Blair wasn't erect, then his lust-fogged brain remembered that the pain of entry had probably negated that for now. He sent up a silent entreaty that the next time went easier, and better, for his friend; he couldn't bear the thought of causing any more pain than what he'd already done.

Coherent thought fled then as the feelings surged up in him and his blood fever reached the boiling point. He pulled out nearly all the way, and slammed into Blair with a ferocity that surprised them both., coming in long, hot spasms deep inside his friend. His friend, now his lover, however reluctantly.

* * *

He took Blair three more times before his body was satisfied. Each time was, if not wholly pleasant, at least not as painful for the younger man, with the semen inside him lubricating him better and his body more stretched now.

Blair didn't scream once.

He moaned, whimpered, groaned and gasped; lots of little noises that made Jim's heart beat faster to hear them, knowing that there was some pleasure forcing those sounds from him, and that he was the cause of that pleasure. He kissed Blair as often as he could manage, even more than might have been considered necessary for "setting the mood", but his partner didn't seem to mind, rather, he appeared to crave the contact as much as Jim did.

The final time-the fourth in less than three hours-probably hurt the least and the most all at the same time. Jim heard the groan when he withdrew from Blair; heard the tremble in his voice when he whispered Jim's name. He rested his body atop the smaller one for just a moment, his weight held firmly by his arms that were on either side of the slimmer frame. A wave of such tenderness, such longing, rose and moved through him that Jim buried his face in the damp, sweaty curls for a moment to hide the tears that had formed in his eyes. A breathless voice whispered his name again then and he shifted slightly, not wanting to end the contact yet.

"Let me hold you," he whispered, his own voice hoarse. "I'm sorry for hurting you," he continued, his face rubbing against sweaty skin. "You know I wouldn't hurt you intentionally...I didn't mean to..."

"Jim." The breathless quality was still there, the tremble not as pronounced. "You were fine, man. I think...I think it would have hurt the first time, regardless...it was okay. Honest."

In answer he kissed the shoulder beneath his face, his body still craving Sandburg's, if unable to consider actions just yet. That wasn't the drug though; that was _him_, wanting Blair...needing Blair...loving Blair. He opened his mouth to give his friend a verbal reply, when the door to their small room slammed open, Chardis and two other women striding in briskly.

"He was supposed to SCREAM!" she snapped at him as the other two rolled him off of Blair. He struggled, every cell in his body screaming at him to protect the younger man, to take care of him, at least in this. He ended up sprawled on the floor, no match for the two amazons that Chardis had brought with her.

"It wasn't necessary!" he shot back, his voice thick with the disgust he held for this woman. "Why can't you see that? It doesn't have to hurt!"

"It was necessary because I _wanted_ to hear him-hear him scream and beg while you raped him! Why couldn't you be like all the rest of them? Do you have to fight me every step of the way?" Chardis loomed over him, rage oozing from every pore of her body. She turned away briefly and nodded at the women holding Blair still pinned to the bed. "Plug him. If he loses any of it, I'm holding you responsible."

Jim watched in horror from his position on the floor as one woman held him firmly while the other pushed Blair's legs up and back, his struggles totally ineffectual. When he was fairly immobilized, a small device that looked like a butt plug was shoved in, with no consideration for how tender, how raw he might be. Blair's pained moan was all Jim needed to hear; he pushed himself upright off the floor. Chardis stopped him with a warning touch of her hand.

"Don't, Detective. I'm not inclined at the moment to be merciful as it is. Interfere with this and you'll never see him alive again."

"You need him as much as me for this," Jim retorted, his eyes cold and hard as he looked at this living embodiment of _beast_.

Chardis smiled coldly at him, then turned the cold smile on Blair as well. "I don't think that the two of you quite understand here. _You_," pointing at Jim, "are the one I need. _He_ is merely a receptacle; something to receive the sperm. Anyone can fill that need...which makes him inherently expendable. I suggest you remember that, detective...for future reference."

Blair had closed his eyes while Chardis talked. The plug up his ass burned; the skin around his opening, and the tender passage beyond it were sore from being over-stretched and used. He hadn't tried to deny Jim at all-he knew what the older man had been through in the last week, and knew that he needed to get as much of that out of his system as possible. Four times though had left him tender, achy and tired. All he wanted to do was lie down and rest; sleep into next year, if possible. Now he was having to hear about how expendable he was...how his life no longer even mattered, that anyone could do this. He shivered a little, and opened his eyes to look at Jim. The older man's were trained on him, and he tried to talk to those cold, light eyes that seemed to heat up just looking at him.

_Don't. Don't give them a reason to take me away from you...let me at least be with you for the last few days we'll have. I care about you so much, Jim. Don't let me be expendable, please._

Then he was being pulled away, not so much escorted as dragged. The last thing he heard as the door closed behind him was Jim's roar of rage and pain.

"NO!"

* * *

Jim lay on his back on the bed, trying not to think about what was happening to Blair. He'd yelled and beaten on the door for a good ten minutes after they left, dragging his partner away. Where they took him, he had no idea. He wasn't even sure he _wanted_ to know, for what the answer might be. He wanted to stay awake, be ready when they brought him back. _You're assuming they're going to bring him back, _his mind retorted with a gleeful chortle. No! He couldn't think like that. He had to assume Blair would be back...and would be all right. Otherwise, all of this, all that they'd endured up to know, would have been for nothing.

In spite of his concern, and his desire to stay awake, his eyes began to droop. It had been a long week, and an even longer day, today. His body was tired, and all the emotion, intense and unrelenting, had taken its toll on him. Jim pulled the thin blanket over his body and dropped into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

The sound of a key turning in a lock woke him, and he was fully awake and sitting up when Blair was shoved back into the room. His partner was shaking, body held stiffly as if he was in pain. His eyes were red, and Jim frowned as he saw dried tear tracks on Blair's face.

"Blair? What happened?"

"Nothing," his guide mumbled in a low voice.

Jim got off the bed and walked the few steps that took him to Blair's side, concern in the lines etched on his face. He held an arm out to his partner. "C'mon, Chief. What happened?"

"You _don't_ want to know. Believe me." Blair leaned tiredly onto the arm that was now  
supporting him. It felt good to lean on Jim's strength.

"Yes, I do." _So I can add this to the list and even the score someday_."Please, Chief, tell me."

"No." Blair wore the stubborn look that usually meant Jim was going to have to work for  
whatever he wanted to know.

"Blair...I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

"I'm just tired, man. I need to lay down for a while."

"Okay." Jim didn't intend to let it go; just leave off for a bit, then catch Blair off-guard. He moved behind him to guide the younger man over to their bed, and sucked his breath in, in shock, when he saw the welts on Blair's cheeks, along with some blood leaking from his anus. "Blair-what the hell happened? Did I do that to you?" Jim heard his voice rising in pitch and tone, but couldn't prevent it. _Blair would've said something if I hurt him that bad-wouldn't he? I would have known if I'd made him bleed...I would have smelled it, or something, wouldn't I? Or was I so far gone in my lust that I was totally oblivious to anything else?_ He stared at the younger man, self-condemnation sweeping through him.

"No, man," Blair's voice sounded weary-of everything. "They did."

"Who-Chardis?"

Blair nodded, closing his eyes. "Yeah." Jim watched his friend shift awkwardly onto the bed, then wiggle, trying to find a comfortable position.

"What'd they do to you, Blair." The self-condemnation was being replaced by rage. Slow-building, white-hot, nuclear-strength rage.

"Jim, man, you don't want to know. Trust me on this one, okay?" Blair curled over onto his side, body beginning to shake in after-reaction to everything he'd seen and done and been put through for the day.

"Did they rape you? After all that, all we went through?"

Blair sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" He rolled back over to face Jim, wincing as the movement jarred his aching body. "No, they didn't rape me. Not like you're thinking, anyway. They retrieved the seminal fluid. _Now_, will you leave it alone?"

Jim stared at his friend, eyes burning with rage, pain and hate, directed toward those who had hurt him. He could feel the killing urge welling up inside him; that primitive part of him that he kept buried with great effort, rising to defend what was his, to strike back for pain caused. His body shook with the effort to control it, and he wasn't surprised to hear the growl coming from his throat. When the growl continued he realized it wasn't himself, and looked around, sensing the panther's presence. Apparently his spirit guide didn't like the trifling done to a Sentinel's Guide any more than he did. He smiled, a cold, humorless twist of his lips, thinking about the vengeance that a panther could wreak.

A low groan from the bed brought him from his thoughts of revenge and he looked down to see Blair shifting, trying to get comfortable. He knelt beside the bed, his face no longer enraged; only caring reflected in the light-blue eyes.

Gently, so as not to cause any further pain, he smoothed his hand over the abused cheeks, touching the welts very carefully. "What'd they use to do this?"

"I don't...know. A riding crop, maybe?" Blair's voice shook, and Jim moved his hand.

"I'm gonna clean you up, then get you dressed so you can warm up. Your skin is ice-cold, Chief."

"I kn-know," Blair mumbled, shaking a little harder. He closed his eyes, a tear trickling down, dripping hotly onto the pillow. He heard Jim shift up behind him, then the sound of running water and some banging. More tears followed the first. God, he hurt. His insides felt like they'd been churned up and reconfigured. He wasn't going to tell Jim the details of what had been done to him-he wasn't certain he could make himself say it, and he knew Jim didn't need to hear it. The less said, the better they'd all be. In a few more days it would all be over, one way or another. Uncharacteristically, but maybe not so after all he'd gone through in the last hour, he almost welcomed knowing that this was going to end, if not the end itself.

A large, warm hand smoothed down his arm gently, the touch a soothing caress. More soft touches as his tears were wiped away, the gentleness only spurring more in their wake. A quiet sigh filled his ears. "Aw, Chief. Damn." The fingers traced his cheekbone, occasionally wiping the salty moisture away, then petting his hair. "I found some ointment in the bathroom cabinet-it might help the welts a little." A pause. "I want to clean you up, Blair. Can you roll a little further onto your side for me?"

Blair nodded and shifted. He gasped slightly when he felt the warm, wet cloth touch his skin, then moved back into the touch. The heat felt good against the welts. Jim's fingers smoothing on the ointment felt even better, and he started to relax slightly. Until Jim rolled him onto his stomach. Blair tensed, all the uncertainty he'd felt before flooding back into him.

"Easy, Blair. I'm just going to wipe the blood off...and put some ointment on. You're torn a little bit..." There was a catch in Jim's voice, and he broke off. Blair turned his head to look at him, hearing the self-accusation back in his friend's voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Blair... I swear I tried not to..."

Blair reached a hand behind him to catch one of Jim's. He squeezed then let go. "You didn't, man. It hurt; the penetration, I mean, but _you_ didn't hurt me. You'd never hurt me. I know that in here," Blair gestured to his head; "and in here." He gestured to his heart.

"But you're hurt..."

"Jim, you didn't do that. Or if you did, it was minute. _They_ weren't gentle; didn't care if they hurt me. In fact, that seemed to be like part of the agenda."

"What'd they do?"

Blair tightened his lips. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it. It's over, forget about it." Over for now, his mind reminded him. He'd have to repeat the process each time he and Jim had sex...until that beast conceived; or didn't, and killed them.

Jim shook his head, but went back to tending Blair. He gently parted his guide's cheeks, and inspected the area. The skin around the anus was mostly raw, and a little inflamed, but it didn't seem to be too bad. There was one tiny tear, but the bleeding had already stopped, and Jim couldn't see any other signs of damage. He took the washrag and wrung it out, then dribbled some warm water over the reddened, raw skin. Blair sucked air in over his teeth, hissing with the pain; then relaxing as the water washed away some of the hurt. Jim carefully patted him dry, then reached for the ointment. Blair stayed his hand with a gentle touch of his own. "No, it's not necessary."

Jim pushed the hand away and grasped the tube. "Yes, it is. The last thing you need is an  
infection; especially here. God knows if you'd get any kind of medical care. Hold still; I'll be done in a minute."

"Jim..." Blair flushed and shifted away from the gentle touch nervously.

"Blair...after we just finished..." _What?_ he wondered. _What would that be called?_ "...having sex," he continued finally, "this is not a big deal, okay? Relax, Chief."

Blair sighed and sank back onto the bed, his body still tight and tense. He felt Jim's fingers against him, the gentle pressure as the ointment was smoothed onto the injured area. He sighed again. This was actually _more_ intimate than the sex they'd just shared. Blair relaxed slightly and closed his eyes; only to jerk them open again in surprise when a felt a gentle kiss on each cheek. He turned his head to find Jim looking at him, an odd expression in his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Jim shrugged helplessly, his hand absently stroking Blair's lower back, edging toward his ass cheeks. "Everything. I can't...protect you...and I'm being forced to...to...hurt you..." He leveled a look at the younger man. "I have so many...feelings...inside right now, and you're all mixed up with them."

Blair rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. Jim's hand moved with him, and now stroked up and down his side and thigh. Blair shivered at the pleasant sensation, and nodded his head, understanding what Jim meant. "I know. I understand, believe me."

The older man shook his head. "Let's get you dressed and under the blanket so you warm up a little bit." He rubbed a little harder against the thigh he'd been stroking. "I can't believe how cold you are."

"I can," Blair smiled at him. "I lose body heat fast, man." He struggled into a sitting position, wincing when his abused posterior twinged, sending pain needling into him. "Owww."

"Easy, Chief." Jim stood up and pulled the grad student to his feet, then steadied him for a moment. It took only a minute to get Blair's jeans and sweater on, and then get him tucked back under the blanket.

He stood there beside the bed, considering his next move, when a gentle stroking along the inside of his thigh startled him.

"Do we have any of that ointment left?" Blair wondered out loud.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I don't know how good a look you got, but I'm getting an eyeful from here. She did a number on you, Jim." Blair's finger gently traced the pattern the knife had taken.

Jim stepped back a pace and raised one leg to rest on the bed, carefully inspecting himself. In all the emotional upheaval that they'd been through in the last couple of hours, he'd totally forgotten about having his legs and stomach carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. He examined the cuts, the pattern, then shook his head. "It's gonna scar, just like the others." He shuddered at the thought of walking around for the rest of his life with this reminder etched into him; the thought that the rest of his life might not be long enough to worry about that followed and he shuddered again.

Blair leaned up on an elbow for a better look, eyes tracing the pattern on Jim's flat stomach. "Yeah," he murmured, "I think it will." A sorrowful look crossed through the dark blue eyes and the grad student looked up at Jim. "I'm sorry, man. Does it hurt much?"

It hadn't before, but then again, he'd been so preoccupied that he'd forgotten about it. As he considered the question now he became aware of a dull throbbing all through his body. "A little, yeah." He traced the raw cuts on his stomach carefully. "I think I'll go wash the blood off, clean myself up."

"Good idea, Jim. You _really_ don't want that to get infected."

"Mmmm." Ellison picked up his jeans and headed for the bathroom.

Blair rolled onto his back, biting his lip to stifle any noise he might make when he jarred his bottom. A few more tears trickled slowly from his eyes as he remembered the look on Jim's face when he was being cut...and the sight of his friend's blood running so freely. A shudder rolled through him remembering the look of evil delight on Chardis' face when he'd flinched the first time the crop had hit his skin, and the absolute, soul-chilling iciness that had filled him when she'd leaned over to lick at the few welts that had bled.

Jim appeared next to him, frowning at the tears on his cheeks. "Mind if I lay next to you?"

Blair smiled slightly. "Do you think I would? After everything else that's happened between us?"

"It's because of the 'everything else' that I'm asking, Chief."

Blair nodded. "Mmm. No, I don't mind. I-" he broke off, flushing.

"You what?" Jim stood in front of him, looking down inquiringly.

"Never mind. Come on," Blair patted the blanket. "I'm cold."

Jim laid down close to Blair, and closed his eyes. He was nearly asleep again when he felt the younger man begin to shake violently next to him. He rolled on to his side and gathered the smaller man close against him, one hand tangling into Blair's hair, stroking gently. "You okay?" It sounded kind of inane, he decided. Obviously he wasn't, but he didn't know what to say. Blair moved his head in what could have been a positive or a negative motion, then shuddered again. Jim wrapped the blankets around Blair, and pulled him close. He nuzzled his partner's neck and ear, whispering soothing sounds to the younger man. Blair's shaking slowed, then stopped altogether, and he relaxed into the strong arms. Jim lowered his head next to Blair's, and whispered, "Sleep, Chief. I'll keep you safe."

Blair murmured a contented, sleepy noise and snuggled closer to Jim's chest; reveling in the strength and warmth of the powerful body surrounding him. Soft warm lips gently caressed his eyelids, nose and cheeks, and a warm glow began within him, spreading outward as Blair relaxed completely into the embrace holding him.

Jim listened for a long time to the soft breathy sounds of a sleeping Blair before allowing himself to be lulled into sleep. His last thought before dropping off was that he would slay dragons for this man, if he could.

Wrapped in each other, they slept.

 

Continued in Part 4


	4. Darkness Surrounding

 

Chapter 12

Every day I live I discover  
more and more  
how impossible it is for me  
to live without you.  
\--_James Hackman_

 

Jim woke when the door opened. He moved to stretch, then caught himself when he realized that the warm weight covering him was his guide's body. A quick look toward the door revealed Yvelle setting a thermos on the table. How long had they slept? Quietly, so as not to wake Blair, who needed to rest after all the physical and emotional trauma of the day, Jim whispered, "What time is it?"

Yvelle looked up at him, surprise on her face. She'd evidently believed them both to be asleep. "Late afternoon."

They'd slept most of the day then. Jim shuddered as his body tried to stretch without moving, and he whispered again, "I'd like to take a shower. Clean up." He wasn't going to ask for anything from them. If his request was ignored or dismissed, so be it. But he wasn't going beg for anything.

She nodded, fingering her pocket where he knew the syringe was. "I'll let Chardis know. But you know it's up to her."

Jim nodded tersely. He'd expected that. He nodded toward the table. "I take it we're not getting food again today."

"Not until the ceremony days are over." Yvelle withdrew the expected syringe and walked toward him. Jim gave a silent groan.

"It's not necessary--we did what was expected of us today."

Her eyes grew cold while looking at him; obviously he was pushing things. "You were supposed to take him with force, you know."

Jim nodded brusquely. "I know. I also know that force isn't--wasn't--necessary."

"Well, we'll see about that, Detective." The syringe pricked him; too quickly the plunger was depressed and Jim steeled himself for the nearly immediate effects to take place. "If I may make a suggestion to you," Yvelle leaned closer, almost conspiratorially, "the next time Chardis tells you she wants to hear _him_ scream--I'd make damn sure he does." Then she was gone, moving out of the room quickly, the door slamming and locking in her wake.

"Think they'll let us?" A quiet, sleepy voice by his elbow caught his attention, and Jim turned to smile at Blair, ignoring, for the moment, the first threads of the drug winding through his body.

"Hey, sleepyhead. How do you feel? Let us do what?" The depth of feeling that looking into those smoky-blue eyes invoked in him surprised Jim.

"Shower." Blair yawned and shifted. "I feel, like, _totally_ gross, man. No offense."

Jim grinned. "None taken. I could do with a shower myself. No offense."

Blair smiled, which quickly turned into a grimace as he tried to sit up. "I feel okay, I guess, but man I'm _sore_. I'm almost glad we're not eating anything, so I won't have to...you know..." his voice trailed off in embarrassment, and he shook his hair out of his eyes. "This is so awkward, Jim. I feel like I don't know what to say or do around you anymore."

Jim nodded. "I feel the same way, Chief. Things got--pretty intense."

"It's only gonna be worse, you know. Chardis' fertile period is three days long. I don't know if I can do this for another two days. It's not you, man, it's just--" Blair clicked his teeth shut over the last word, cutting off his thought.

Jim heard the edge of hysteria in his partner's voice, and responded by moving closer and wrapping his arms around the younger man. "We'll get through this, Blair. You have to believe me. We'll make it somehow." _With any luck, and a miracle or two, maybe we'll get out of this somehow, and I can show you how good it can really be. Make you feel things you never imagined feeling, instead of just being glad it didn't hurt too badly._

Blair swiveled his head around to look at Jim. "What if she doesn't get pregnant? We'll be toast in a couple of weeks, Jim."

"Have you considered what will happen if she _does_ get pregnant?" He wasn't even going to dwell on the fact that, if she did, it would be _his_ child...

"I'm trying not to consider all of those implications just yet."

Jim cuddled Blair back against his chest, gently stroking the tangled curls. "We're going to have to start considering, I think." He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensual pleasure of touching the younger man, comforting him. He could feel the individual strands of hair curling around his fingers, binding him as if with silken threads. The expected dizziness from the injection hit him and he clutched at Blair, seeking a steady anchor in the maelstrom the drugs visited on his body.

"Jim? Man, are you okay?" the grad student settled a cool hand over the suddenly burning-hot one of his partner and shivered. "Jesus...they gave you another injection, didn't they?"

"Yeah," he croaked, his throat suddenly tight as his body started firing. He could almost feel the drugs slithering through his veins, looking for ways to compromise his control, to force him to submit to their will, to-- Shit. He was having mental hallucinations now.

The comforted became the comforter as Blair gripped Jim's hands tightly in his own and held them against his chest. "You're not alone, man...I'm here. I've got you, Jim. Remember that, buddy...I've got you."

"Yeah..." Jim shuddered as the dizziness increased. This was the worst part, the feeling that the whole world was careening around him, tipping at mad, wild angles. Even the white-hot intense lust he'd felt earlier wasn't as bad as the feeling that there was no "right end up" like he felt right now. "Anchor me, Blair...I can't hold on." The words were tense, whispered.

Sandburg shuddered at the naked vulnerability in his friend's voice. He shifted stiffly and rolled, pulling Jim tight against him, holding him there with his arms anchored around the bigger man's back. "I have you, Jim. Hold on to me." _I'm here for you, Jim. I'll always be here for you to hold on to. I don't know if I could voice it out loud yet...but we did more than just have sex earlier. You made love to me. I know you don't see it that way...you only see that you hurt me. But Jim, I could feel the caring there. Hold on to me, partner._

Jim slid his arms around Blair, his body burning, his mind spinning. The younger man was like shelter in the storm for him, and he pressed as close as he could manage, his face buried in Blair's neck. _My anchor. My guide, my friend, my partner...my lover. Could you love me, Blair? Would you want to try? Do you realize you're the first person I've let inside in a long, long time? What made you so different that I could do that? Is it because you're always there for me? Like now? You're hurting, scared, but you don't hesitate if I say I need you. Do you know how special that makes you?_

They lay huddled together for what seemed like an eternity as Jim shook and shivered from the intense heat that flowed through his system, with cold following like icebergs on its heels. The dizziness that always started this was more intense this time, lasting longer. The euphoric state afterward, when he was pleasantly buzzed, seemed less pronounced this time, but the lust that was lurking just beneath the surface seemed harsher. His cock began swelling, forcing a wince from him, as the tender skin stretched. It felt good though, in a weird sort of way, and it made him want more. It would take so little to just give in to it...

Jim jerked out of Blair's embrace and sat up, banging his head on the wall in his haste. He muttered and cursed, then got off the bed altogether. Blair gave him a sad, knowing look, and the older man flinched away from it.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore," he mumbled, hating the sadness in Blair's eyes.

"You haven't hurt me yet," Sandburg replied softly, knowing but deliberately ignoring, what Jim was referring to. He held a hand up when Jim opened his mouth. "Don't. Just leave it be, okay? We both know what we think...and what the other thinks. Just leave it alone."

Jim nodded, his own eyes sad, feeling betrayed by his own body and his lack of control over it.

They stayed in that pose for a long moment, staring at each other, not sure what to say to the other one, when Blair's stomach growled. Jim raised an eyebrow, and Blair chuckled. "Hey, some things can't be put off, even by satanic rituals. I know it's not much, and I know it's liquid...but nutrition is nutrition, right?"

Jim smiled back, relieved to see that they could still joke a little. Maybe they wouldn't be permanently scarred by this experience. Maybe. Assuming they survived it.

* * *

Their drinks were dispatched quickly, leaving both men wishing for more. Jim eyed Blair critically, trying to gauge how much weight the younger man had lost in the last four days or so. Neither one of them were getting the nutrition they both needed...Blair's jeans already were looser on him than when they'd arrived at this misbegotten place.

"How're the cuts now?" Blair finally asked him, after staring at him for nearly five straight minutes.

"Huh? Oh, well...they hurt, kind of. A dull throb, mostly." Jim closed his eyes as another wave of heat worked through his body, actually intensifying the throb of the marks. "They itch, too."

"That means they've started to heal."

"I know, Sandburg. I was a medic once, remember?"

"Yeah, right. Sorry." Blair flushed a dull red and Jim silently cursed. Things felt so awkward right now. All he wanted to do was touch Blair; hold him, comfort him...and that wasn't an option for him right now. He didn't feel like he could trust himself not to try and take what he doubted Blair was ready to offer.

* * *

Not long after they had finished their drinks, the door swung open and Chardis entered, flanked on either side by Yvelle and Serita. Of the three of them, Jim actually trusted Serita the least; her eyes never seemed to miss anything. Including the way he had shifted so that he was standing protectively near his smaller partner.

"I understand you have some things you'd like to request." Chardis said calmly, her eyes glittering like ice. "I don't believe you've proven yourselves enough to be making requests, so you'll likely be denied, but go ahead and ask."

Jim felt the muscle in his jaw clench as he looked at these women. What in the hell happened that turned people into creatures like this? Blair moved to stand behind him, and Jim's heart contracted with his need to protect him; he could almost smell the fear coming from his guide. "We want to shower, and clean up, " he gestured to the six days growth of beard that both of them were sporting. "Both of us are injured," _As you well know, bitch_!, "and we need to keep the wounds clean. Especially if you expect us to be able to perform for you again." He added an ice glare of his own, his eyes clashing with their captor's.

Chardis stared at him coolly, meeting his eyes with her own. "I was given to understand that you wanted to ask for something else, as well?"

Jim nearly growled with frustration. Wasn't she even going to answer him on the first one? At least there was a _chance_ of that happening... "I want you to stop giving me the injections. I did what you wanted...I'll do it again. It's not necessary to keep drugging me."

"Actually, detective," the ice in her voice made glaciers seem warm, and Jim could feel Blair shiver behind him, "you did _not_ perform adequately; I had a specific request of you, which you did not heed. Not only will the injections _not_ stop, I plan on increasing the amount you receive with each one. You _will_ do as I ask. It's really quite simple. Please me, or suffer the consequences."

Jim narrowed his eyes, staring at the bitch. "What about the fucking showers?" he ground out through clenched teeth.

"I'll think about it and get back with you. After all," she laughed, the amusement not quite showing in her eyes, "it's not like you're going anywhere, is it?"

Jim glowered at her, and she laughed again, then turned and strode from the room, the other two following behind her; Serita turning at the last minute to give them one more, inscrutable look.

Jim turned to Blair, trying to joke a little to soothe the troubled expression on his guide's face. His heartbeat was somewhere in the triple digits, it sounded like, and his face was a dull pale color.

"Whadaya think, Chief? Think we'll get our shower?"

Blair shook his head. "I couldn't even begin to guess, Jim. I can't figure her out at all. I'm not sure I want to--she scares me to death."

"That's the situation we're in, Blair. She'd scare about anyone, I think."

Blair smiled and shook his head slightly as he moved over to sit down on the bed. "I don't think it's just that, Jim. I think she, like, cast a spell or something on me."

Jim stared at his guide as if he'd lost his mind. "You're saying you believe in all this shit,  
Sandburg?"

Blair nodded, cautiously. "Some of it. Man, there are so many things that we can't explain in this world--you're a living example of one of them! Anyway, I say that based partly on what happened when I first got here."

"Yeah? What was that? You didn't mention anything."

Blair patted the mattress next to him. "C'mere and sit down--I need the extra body heat."

The older man looked at him, indecision written across his face. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Chief," he whispered, his voice pained. "I'm not sure I can trust myself just now." He gestured to the erection pushing against his jeans.

Blair pushed himself back off the bed and went to stand directly in front of Jim. "_I_ think it's a _great_ idea...and I trust you implicitly, Jim." He moved closer to the bigger man, pressing his body as near as he could without actually touching.

"Blair--" Jim began hoarsely, trying to step back from his friend. "Don't...please. I can't--"

"All I want is for you to sit with me, help me keep warm. I'm freezing here, Jim. I just want you--my friend--to help me with that. I don't think you're going to jump me just from sitting with me. I trust you, Jim." Blair stepped back a pace and sat back down on the bed, patting the mattress once more. "Now...will you come and sit with me?"

Jim sat down next to Blair. After several long moments of barely breathing while he waited for Blair to come to his senses and move away, he shifted backward to lean against the wall, then pulled him in between his spread legs, situating the slighter body back against his chest. Blair leaned back with a contented sigh. He was still cold, even dressed, and wrapped in one of the blankets on top of everything. He was beginning to think he'd never be warm again. He wiggled slightly, trying to find a comfortable way to sit that didn't aggravate his injured posterior, and finally settled down. Jim wrapped his arms around him, and leaned down to Blair's ear. Between the drugs in his system, Blair's closeness and the younger man's wiggling to get comfortable, his voice was thick with desire. "Talk, Sandburg."

Blair shivered at the warm breath on his ear, and the tone those words held when Jim spoke them, but chose not to pursue it further, and settled into his story. "Just that I think they worked a magick, as in m-a-g-i-c-k spell on me when I got here. You know my earrings are missing?"

Jim nodded; he could still see traces of inflammation, and remembered the dried blood crusted on Blair's ear when he'd become coherent enough to notice things like that, that first day.

"Well, they ripped them from my ear," Blair shuddered slightly at the memory, "then put them into this small stone bowl--at least it looked stone--and started chanting over it. Chardis did, I mean. I have no idea what she was saying--it wasn't any language I recognize. But right after she finished chanting there was this flash of light, like a lightning strike, you know?, and smoke, and then I started feeling...afraid." The younger man said the last word very softly and Jim felt his heart ache again at the constant fear his friend had been subjected too since arriving at this place.

"Of what?"

"Everything, man. I was _so_ hoping that you'd barge in then, guns blazing, so to speak; instead I passed out, and when I came to you were laying next to me, unconscious. Scared me to death, man. And then you wouldn't come around, at first, and I kept thinking of how you'd react when I finally got you to wake up...and I kept imagining you being, like, so totally pissed off...and I got more scared...and then I started to really think about what Chardis had said to me, and I knew, no matter _how_ scared I might be of your reaction to being woke up, it was nothing against how scared I was if you didn't."

Jim nodded. "You were sitting over me when I woke up."

"Yeah--but I hadn't been awake very long. Half an hour, maybe. I--" Blair cut off his sentence when the door scraped open. Serita walked in and stood in front of them, arms crossed over her breast; eyes blazing cold fire.

"You may shower and shave. You," she pointed a finger at Jim, "will inspect your _lover_," her voice sneered the word at them, "and check his injury. You will also check and cleanse your own; if medication is needed, it will be provided. You will have half an hour, and we will go right now."

They both nodded and shifted off the bed, Jim helping Blair since the younger man was still a bit stiff.

"What about towels and soap?" Jim questioned, already heading toward the door.

Serita shrugged. "Those are all available in the bathing room." She eyed the two men distastefully. "Razors, as well. I suggest you use them."

Blair flushed hotly under her cold regard and Jim moved in front of him to help ease the younger man's distress. "We're ready," he told her. She nodded curtly and opened the door, pushing them through.

For a brief moment Jim entertained the idea of trying to overpower her, but Serita seemed to know what he was thinking and shook her head warningly, her eyes almost daring him to try, telling him he'd fail. He sighed and schooled the expression on his face to a neutral one. There would be a chance sooner or later; he just had to be ready to act upon it.

* * *

The water was wonderful; scrubbing off the grime of several days was even better. Sure, they'd had the ritual baths earlier in the day, but it just wasn't the same. Jim soaped himself over and over, thinking he'd never felt so dirty before. And it wasn't all physical dirt, either. The cuts on his abdomen and legs stung from the soap and water, and although he tried to be careful, several of them opened and bled a little again. He shuddered, watching the crimson-stained water running down the drain, wondering if he'd ever truly get these memories from his mind.

Slight movement to the side caught his attention, and he watched Blair out of the corner of his eye, noting the pale cheeks and trembling hand. Blair was shaving right now, and he wasn't using a safety razor. If he were to shake just a little too hard...

"You okay, Chief?"

Blair smiled sadly, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror. "I guess. I don't know what's wrong--I'm just real down all of a sudden."

Jim's stomach clenched into a knot. "Don't think of --doing anything, Blair. I mean it."

"Like what? You mean slit my throat, or my wrists?" Blair shook his head. "Man, death is like so not me. I don't want _them_ to kill me--why would I do it myself?"

Jim shrugged, feeling stupid now. "I don't know, Chief. Guess I'm not thinking clearly right now." He stepped under the water to rinse the soap off. "Sorry--forget I said it. I didn't mean anything."

"Except you cared," Blair replied softly. He watched Jim in the mirror, rinsing himself off, hands running across his body, and his own heated slightly in response. _How do I deal with this? It was just an attraction before...and not even totally that, either. Since when do I have this kind of response to him? _He shook his head, and mentally chided himself, _since you were forced to consider him as more than a friend._

"Blair?"

He refocused on Jim. "Yeah?"

"You all right?"

"Mmhmm."

"I still need to check you out."

Blair flushed. "I'm fine, Jim. Really."

"You're not fine, Sandburg. You were forced into accepting penetration numerous times today. And injured in the process."

"Numerous times?" Blair looked at Jim stupidly. He only recalled one that he would say injured him: the collection process. A shudder ran through him at the thought.

"First with me, then with them."

Blair shook his head. "You didn't force me, man."

"It wasn't what I'd call consensual, Blair."

"Well, if it wasn't consensual for me, it wasn't for _either_ of us, Jim. We were both forced to take part. They just did a better job in making sure you'd _have_ to participate." Blair cocked an eyebrow at Jim and continued, "You didn't force me. I participated of my own free will--such as it is, in here."

"Well however you want to argue it, I still need to check you. The light is a lot better in here, anyway. Come here."

Blair sighed, "God, this is so embarrassing."

"Why, for cryin' out loud? In case you don't remember, we just had sex this morning, Chief. It's not like I'm looking at anything I haven't already looked at or touched." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jim wished them back. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but _damn_, it wasn't like he was asking a lot--just to let Blair let him check...make sure he really was okay.

"As if I'd forget," Blair muttered as he bent over, face flushed, presenting his ass to Jim for inspection.

Jim swallowed heavily when Blair bent at the waist. When Serita had told him he was to check Blair, and actually, he'd planned on it anyway, he hadn't really considered the impact that this would have on _him_, with the drugs coursing through his system. He reached a hand out and caressed the cheeks gently, then quickly parted them to see what he needed to see. The whole area looked better already. The inflammation was fading, and seen in the brighter light, the tear seemed very minor. Hopefully the upcoming activities in the morning wouldn't reverse things too badly. _Fuck them wanting to hear screaming; I'll be extra careful...make it as close to making love to him as I can. As I'm capable of, at this point._ He leaned in a fraction, inhaling the musk of Blair's body; swaying slightly as the heady scent hit him full on. Deciding this was a very dangerous course to pursue, he backed off, releasing Blair.

"Well?" Blair straightened up and looked at Jim, trying to calm his racing heart; to pretend that those caresses hadn't fired his blood some.

"Looks better, Chief," Jim said roughly. "You all done then? They'll be back soon." Jim reached for his clothing as he spoke, wincing at the thought of putting anything back on over the still-oozing cuts on his body.

"Yeah, just let me get my clothes on," Blair reached for his own clothing, and stepped into his jeans.

Jim's gaze was drawn to Blair, and he watched frankly as the younger man pulled the denim up over solid legs and thighs and reached for the buttons. Blair caught his interested look and blushed slightly, but didn't avert his gaze; instead meeting Jim's eyes straight on. They held the look for several heartbeats, then finished dressing in silence, both men aware that things were changing between them.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon and early evening passed slowly for them, each dreading the coming morning for different reasons. Most of the time was spent laying side-by-side on the bed, sleeping or talking quietly. Blair's mood had swung dangerously low after their shower, and although Jim knew it was a combination of the shock, trauma, and the over-all experience they were going through, he couldn't help but wonder and worry how much of a part in it he'd played.

As the day wore on, Jim found himself watching Blair carefully; he couldn't shake the feeling that the younger man was becoming a little shocky. He was concerned for his partner--he'd appeared to be fine earlier in the day. Jim swore at himself for not checking Blair internally during their shower-time. What if he'd been injured inside, where Jim hadn't checked? What if he was bleeding internally? His rational voice said that if Blair were bleeding internally, he'd have noticed something by now; but he couldn't help the thoughts floating through his mind. He stewed about it for a while, then finally turned to wake Blair up. To his surprise his guide was laying there, silent tears leaking out behind closed lids. Jim placed a hand gently on Blair's arm, wincing at the cold temperature of his skin. He quickly calculated his partner's body temp, figuring it to be around 96.6 degrees. No wonder the poor guy was shivering constantly. _He,_ on the other hand, had boiling water in his veins; the now-familiar burn coursing through him steadily, with no let-up in sight, save for the one that would come tomorrow.

"Blair?"

His partner opened wet eyes, scrubbing at the tears. "Yeah?"

Jim sighed. _What's wrong_ just didn't cut it anymore. He knew what was wrong--everything that was happening to them. He stretched a hand out. "C'mere, partner."

Blair shifted himself over toward Jim until he lay in the older man's embrace, a large warm hand gently stroking his back while he cried. "I don't know what's wr-wrong," he hiccupped finally. "Nothing's happened since this morning, and I dealt with that okay."

Jim sighed again, and lowered his head to brush a quick kiss across the top of Blair's head, inhaling deeply the younger man's scent. He could feel the ever-increasing desire flowing through him, and a small part of him--that side most in touch with his primitive self--nearly slobbered in anticipation of the ritual ceremony so that he could bury himself in the warm body next to him and--. _NO! What the fuck is wrong with you, Ellison? Your partner needs you...needs you to be calm and rational, and IN CONTROL. Forget the part of you that is burning up...think with your big head, not the one that's throbbing between your legs._

He shuddered as a small measure of sanity reasserted itself. More than the sex itself, he just needed release, and didn't care much anymore how it was achieved. His body couldn't handle this level of arousal on a constant basis, it was beginning to wear on him. "You--_we_\--didn't deal with much of anything earlier, Chief. We fell asleep, remember? You're in shock now, Blair. Delayed reaction. I think that's why you're so cold." As he spoke, Jim began briskly rubbing his hands against Blair's back and arms, trying to stimulate the sluggish circulation. Blair shivered at the sensation of Jim's hands moving on his body, even through the layers of blanket and clothing. "We're gonna have to do this all over again in a little while, Blair. Are you going to be able? You need to tell me now, so I know what to expect. My reaction to the drugs is stronger than it was before and I'm gonna need--" his voice broke on the last word, "--your help."

"I can do it, Jim. I want to..." his partner's voice trailed off into nothingness, and he stared into space. Jim reached a hand down and tilted Blair's face up to his.

"You want to what?"

"I want to...to...I want..." Frustrated at his inability to tell Jim what he wanted, Blair lifted his head a bit, and pulled Jim's head down to his.

Their lips meeting had an immediate, electrifying effect on Jim. He turned onto his side and pulled Blair into a rough embrace, mouth moving over the younger man's, tongue pushing past cool lips. Blair opened his mouth to let Jim in, and heard his friend groan when he slid his tongue over the older man's.

"Oh, god, baby..." Jim breathed when they pulled apart from each other. Blair's eyes flew open wide at the unexpected endearment, but before he could comment on it, or ask about it, Jim leaned back in and caught him in another mind-blowing kiss.

_Oh my god, this is really happening,_ Blair thought with a sense of shock and surprise as Jim's hands roamed over him, caressing and stroking. _He's kissing me and there's no reason for him to; we're touching and we don't need to be. I'm warm. I feel warm, and alive, and...loved._ He returned the caresses; heard Jim's breathing become more rapid, harsher. He knew his was coming in gasps and that his heart was pounding out of control. He didn't have access to sentinel senses like Jim, but Blair suspected that Jim's heart was racing a bit as well. Then his thoughts turned back to the warm lips that were devouring his, and he returned the kiss wholeheartedly.

They had just pulled apart for air when the door flew open to reveal a livid Chardis, flanked by an equally livid Yvelle and Serita. Her words were shards of ice flung at them: "Do you need to wear the cock ring again, so soon, Detective? I'd have thought you were tired of it by now."

Jim felt his temper reach the boiling point, and his lips curled into a grimace of disgust and weariness. **_FUCK YOU!!!_** His brain screamed. He opened his mouth to give this bitch his opinion of what he thought about her threats and all the rest of the shit he and Blair were being put through when he felt Blair's hand on his arm. His guide shook his head once, and mouthed 'No', knowing Jim would hear it. Jim closed his mouth and relaxed slightly, taking up a protective stance in front of Blair. "We weren't doing anything that is going to interfere in your plans," he offered as lightly as he could manage, watching Chardis' eyes darken with hatred and something that looked like rage.

"Tread carefully, Detective," her voice lowered. "The young man beside you is quite precious to you, isn't he? How would you like to watch him perform with someone else? We still prefer that the ritual be marked by a forced act...and it could still happen." She stared at the two men consideringly. "You never know, Detective. _He_ might enjoy the experience...and you might enjoy watching." Her lips curved in a cruel parody of a smile.

Jim sat back in shock. He could hear Blair's heart pounding, the beat erratic now, and glanced at his partner. The younger man had gone dead white with shock and terror. Jim felt bile rising in his throat over the thought that these women--who professed to be part of the human race--could make a threat like that. He shifted forward, slightly away from Blair; enough to appease some of the fury in Chardis' eyes, but still close enough to Blair that his guide wouldn't think he was deserting him.

"Very good, Detective," she purred at him. "You're a _fast_ learner, aren't you?"

"I try," he ground out between clenched teeth. "Now what?"

"Well, since the two of you seem to be so anxious for each other, I suppose we'll have to take precautions that you don't, indeed, mess up the ceremonies tomorrow. " She studied the two men closely, her inky-black eyes seeming to reflect the smoldering fires of hell. When she spoke again, Chardis' voice was rich with mockery and amusement. "I _was_ going to try and be merciful," she said, "although you certainly didn't earn it with that pitiful performance earlier today." A heavy sigh, and she rubbed her belly. "Still, you did provide a fair amount of ...useable...goods for me...and I was going to let you be for the evening. Now," mock-regret stole into the cool tones, sending shivers of fear skittering along Jim's backbone. "Now, I'm going to have to go back on that, and give you back a small measure of your control. Yvelle, darling, I want you to go get the nice little toy that's going to help our Detective maintain a hold on himself. Oh, and bring another syringe, as well."

* * *

_He_ screamed this time, when they held him down and injected him, then strapped the tight leather around his aching cock. Afterwards, with nothing more than a cold, mocking smile, Chardis and the other two left them alone, with him curled into himself on his side and Blair kneeling next to him, eyes frantic as he tried to determine how best to deal with this.

 

* * *

  
Chapter 13

"How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?  
How long will you hide your face from me?  
How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long?  
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?"  
\--_Psalm 13_

 

Blair managed to get Jim's jeans off of him, figuring that as hot as his friend already was, it would get worse with higher levels of the drug coursing through him, and probably irritate the still-raw cuts. He got Jim settled best as he could, trying to ignore the erection tenting through the fly of the older man's boxers, taunting and teasing him. The pulsing organ almost seemed to be talking to him, promising him delights and horrors all at the same time. Blair shuddered with the odd thoughts. _Where in the hell is this coming from? I've slid over the edge into the land of no return if I'm anthropomorphizing a cock. Which one of us is getting the injections of hallucinogens anyway?_ He shuddered again. At least Jim was resting quietly, if only probably for the moment. Now if only _he_ could, as well. Sandburg laid down next to his partner, maintaining as much distance as he could, and closed his eyes.

* * *

In his heart, he clung to the hope that they were hallucinations; in his mind he knew they were reality.

He could hear the loud sounds of the earth moving around him, under him. Restless, shifting noises--but was that the earth, or was that him? He shifted again, uncertain now, caught in a strange sort of sensory hell within his own mind. He could _hear_ the things; could see and smell them as well. And yet, he knew, even as he knew that his heightened senses were maxed out right now, that he wasn't really experiencing the things that were opened up to him. Or was he?

There they were again--those sounds. Restless, like him. Did mother earth know what was happening here? Was she sympathetic, trying to feel? He groaned and shifted himself, his body hot and aching, higher reasoning not well within his grasp any longer. He was beginning to function mostly on instinct and that instinct was screaming at him to give in and seek out his mate, in whatever way he needed him.

Ahhh...that was the other thing here. He sensed the panther's presence in here, as surely as his own and Sandburg's. The large cat moved restlessly as well, shifting back and forth around the room, pausing to growl and belch strange noxious odors into the air...

...no, that wasn't that panther. What _was_ it though? He sniffed the air, trying to place the scent, but unable to.

The world shifted around him entirely, shaking his balance and focus--what little remained of either. He pulled in further against himself and his mouth opened to whisper one soft entreaty:

"Blair."

* * *

The soft whisper woke him from his own restless dreams, the younger man turning toward the older, instinctively knowing that Jim needed him to anchor him again; to ground him against the barrage of sensory and hallucinogenic input.

"Here, Jim," he offered softly, reaching out to grasp a hot, shaking hand in his own. "I'm right here."

Jim's tongue darted out to lick at lips gone hot and dry with the chemical fever burning its way through him. His voice was rough and gravelly, a raw edge to it. "I...n-need... Help m-me, Blair--"

Sandburg twined his fingers through Jim's, wincing at the intense heat burning into him. How was his friend bearing it? He reached his free hand up to smooth it across the lined forehead, barely brushing the tips of his fingers there, withdrawing that slight caress when Jim winced.

"What, Jim? What do you need? Tell me, I'll help you." He modulated his voice, keeping it very low, soothing, calm. Nothing to edge Jim's discomfort level any higher than it already was. _Dammit! How long until they just totally misjudge and give him a fucking overdose? This is the worse yet--he's got so much of this shit built up in him that he'll probably be flying at the micro-cellular level for weeks._ He steadfastly ignored the small voice that laughed hysterically and reminded him there likely would be no more 'weeks' for either of them.

"I...you..." the harsh words were punctuated by panting as Jim made a desperate attempt to regain some of his control, some of himself. "It's...worse... I don't...know...anymore..."

"I've got you, Jim. Not gonna let you fall, man." Blair whispered the words, his eyes tracing the other man's face. When sky-blue eyes opened to meet his, he winced. The emotions that he saw raging out of control in the cerulean depths scared him. Jim's defenses were the lowest he'd ever seen--and he couldn't imagine Jim Ellison without those defenses. Without that control. _I won't let you fall, Jim, even if it means breaking that fall with myself. When it comes...when the moment is here...I'll catch you, even if I end up crashing because of it. As long as you're okay when this is over, that's what counts. I'll survive because I can bend a lot more than you can. I'm flexible. You...your defense is your control and although it serves you well, you're lost without it. I can see it in your eyes, Jim. You're running scared from yourself right now. I'm here. I'll always be here for you. I'll break your fall...I'll catch you._

Two sets of blue eyes met and melded. Blair tried to send waves of comfort across the arc he could see between them. Jim shuddered hard under the impact of the their gaze, then whimpered and pressed himself tightly against Blair, nuzzling into soft skin and softer hair, rooting against the lean muscles of Blair's neck much like an infant would root, seeking nourishment.

Hesitantly, not wanting to hurt his friend further, Blair brought his arms up and cautiously wrapped them around the broad, shaking form beside him. Jim shuddered again, then returned to his nuzzling, his lips sucking gently at the warm skin of Blair's throat. Waves of tenderness washed over the younger man and he cradled Jim closer, his hands stroking the hot back. _That's it, Jim. You take the comfort however you can find it. I can bear this for both of us, while you work on surviving...and if surviving means you have to taste me, that's fine._

He could feel Jim's erection poking him harshly in the stomach, but ignored it, held his body still. Jim didn't need sex. None of this was _about_ sex. This was so totally in the opposite direction that there wasn't any comparison. This was two friends--now lovers--giving and receiving comfort, needing each other and being there for the other. He shifted his head a little bit, changing the angle so he could rest more easily against the pillow, and stifled the low moan that rose to his lips when Jim's mouth moved with him and fastened onto his skin again. There was something so hungry, so..._needy_...about that hot mouth tasting him. No...not tasting him. Not really. More like connecting with him. Briefly he wondered if that was how infants felt when they were suckling; were they connecting? _Maybe that's why we all like to suck...we need the connection; we remember that. The physical nourishment is important, but it satisfies another kind, as well. Spiritual, emotional, whatever._ His hand smoothed gently over Jim's head, stroking the short hair there. _Take whatever you need, Jim. As much as you need for as long as you need it._

It was incredible, this warmth beneath his lips. Tangy salt filled his mouth and he suckled harder, feeling the soft skin giving way, yielding to him. He nuzzled into the softness, breathing deeply of the scent there; a scent that signaled safety and comfort to him. A gentle hand brushed over his head and images sprang into his mind of a large, sleek cat licking at its mate, connecting with it. _He's mine. He's my mate. He's my anchor holding me fast against the storm that's raging around and within me. I can close my eyes and be safe. He'll make sure I stay safe here, with him._ The maelstrom of feelings and emotions would have been frightening if he'd still been in control; without that it was terrifying...but there was a haven here, and he was connecting to as best he could. In some corner of his fevered brain he accepted the comfort and the connection, and relaxed against the smaller body holding him tightly.

Held safe in each other's arms, they slept for a time.

* * *

The worst of the actual hallucinations had worn off when he woke a while later.

Jim groaned and shifted, aware of his body's discomfort from the erection that just wouldn't go away. _I hope I'm still able to do what's expected of me._ His body throbbed at the thought and he smiled ruefully to himself. _I don't guess it's going to be much of a concern._

The man snuggled tightly against him stirred in his sleep and Jim smoothed a hand down the tangled curls that were tumbled wildly about the pillow, Blair's face, and his face, nestled as it was in the curve of Blair's neck. _Blair's neck._ Vague images of the hours just past filtered into his still-hazy brain, and Jim pushed himself up and away, just enough to get a good look. Heartsick at what he saw there, he brought his fingers up to stroke lightly over the soft, reddish-purple bruises that smudged the pale skin. He sighed, a ragged sound in the stillness, then started when cool fingers touched his own, stroking with him.

"S'okay, man." Blair's voice, still rough with sleep.

"I hurt you. Took--" His voice shook and he could hear the self-condemnation there. He raised his eyes to look into the dark, sleep-fogged blue depths of his partner's.

"No. You only took what I was willing--happy!--to give, Jim. You needing grounding, man--you were flying all over the place."

"But by hurting you? Bruising you? Jesus Christ, Sandburg." Even as he spoke he could taste the younger man's salt on his lips and tongue; felt himself surge again, pain and longing shooting through his body like tiny little white-hot needles stabbing him.

"You didn't do serious harm, Jim. It didn't even hurt at the time. I think..." Blair's voice trailed off as he considered his words. "I think it was from you...sucking...for so long, that there's marks." He raised his hands to cup Jim's face, his voice low, the words mere breathy whispers. "You needed to make a connection last night, Jim. I didn't care how you did it, if it helped you. You were hurting so bad--" He stared into Jim's eyes, trying to make him see what was there.

They stared at each other for long, long minutes; the only sounds in the room were raspy breathing and thumping hearts. And Jim was the only one who heard their hearts.

At last, when Blair had just about given up hope of his partner really _seeing_, understanding, Jim's face softened. "Thank you," he whispered, before lowering his mouth gently to Blair's, seeking to give back some of what he took last night, to reinforce the connection that was becoming as necessary to them as breathing was.

The sweet, searing peace that stole over him as Jim's lips moved over his made Blair want to cry. They were warm, soft, gentle as they softened against his. The press of Jim's tongue against the seam of his lips coaxed him into opening, letting his friend inside to taste the sweetness there. Jim's own mouth was heaven; warm and wet, tongue teasing over his with long stroking motions.

"Let me love you, just a little bit," Jim whispered against the lush mouth pressed to his, fingers tangling in the dark silk that was Blair's hair. "Let me give you back a little of what you've given to me." Even as he spoke, the bigger man was rolling them, hands reaching to stroke underneath the heavy sweater. "Is it okay, Blair? Can I touch you?" He drew back far enough this time to see into the smoky-blue eyes that were so dark now they were nearly black. His fingers stroked over one nipple, smiling as the tiny bit of flesh pebbled beneath his touch.

Blair's breathing was ragged now, as the peace from earlier morphed into something even more powerful, more intense. Jim's fingers stroked over his nipples, carding through the hair covering his chest and stomach, then moved further down, gliding gently and sensuously, until his hips had to move in time with them.

"Y-yes," he gulped. "Touch me, Jim. Please, touch me." He arched his back, startled, when lips touched briefly at his navel, a warm tongue dipping in to taste before a gentle kiss was placed there. Rough, callused fingers stroked the soft skin of his belly as they reached to undo the buttons on his jeans; stray caresses fell on the rigid flesh throbbing beneath the denim and Blair whimpered, his body straining upward. "Please," he moaned softly. "Oh, please..." He whimpered again when Jim's lips moved over him, tasting him, then opened to pull him deep into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth.

_Delicious._ That was the overwhelming conclusion within his brain; the portion that could still function, anyway. Blair tasted of salt, and sweat, and musk. His skin here was thin and silky, stretched tautly over the hard flesh. His pulse thundered in Jim's ears, and against his tongue, as the large vein running along the underside pumped blood through the engorged organ. He sucked gently at first, then harder when his guide began to moan softly, fingers petting restlessly against his head. _I'm going to make this so good for you, Blair; show you how much pleasure I'd like to give you--would give you, always, if the circumstances were different._

He drew his mouth from the throbbing cock, earning a small cry of distress from his panting friend. "Easy," he murmured against the heated flesh of Blair's pelvis, before stroking downward with his tongue, running it through the dark curly bush of pubic hair. There was salt here, as well, and more musk. He buried his face in the curls and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of his partner in full arousal. His own cock throbbed ominously, chafing against its leather prison, but he ignored it. This wasn't for or about him; it was all for Blair. He pushed the jeans off long, firm legs, then leaned back in.

He lapped gently at the balls hanging heavy and tight in their sac beneath the fully erect cock. Blair moaned and arched toward his mouth, spreading his legs invitingly. Jim obliged and took each one into his mouth in turn, swirling his tongue enticingly over the swollen orbs, sucking on them with tender abandon. Blair shook beneath him, quiet but for tiny, breathy moans and whimpers. Those small noises encouraged Jim and he nudged the lean thighs further apart, his tongue moving downward, tracing a wet line, tasting the clean, earthy taste that was pure Blair.

"Ohhh, Jim...oh god, please--" Shaking hands grasped at his head as the body beneath his own hands trembled and shivered.

"You taste so good," he murmured huskily, spreading pliant flesh with his hands, licking gently at the tender ring of muscle that had opened for him, taken him in. A low, keening cry filled the air and Blair shook harder, shifting his legs further apart, encouraging the gentle caresses. "Ahhh...you like that." Jim smiled against the hot flesh. "Good, 'cause I like it too." He bent his head back to his task, wetting the little pucker lavishly, only the tip of his tongue pressing against it, running along the rim. He circled the tight little rosebud once more, then ran his tongue back up to take Blair into his mouth once again.

Pleasure exploded into Blair's brain, imprinted on the backs of his eyelids in Technicolor, ringing in his ears in stereo sound. He could feel Jim's mouth moving around him...around his...oh god, he was sucking him back into that incredible mouth--! He strained, body arching upward, trying to drive his cock into the moist warmth encircling it.

Jim choked a little when the hard cock in his mouth drove inward, bumping against the back of his throat; then he was relaxing his throat, taking Blair deeper into himself, swallowing around the hard column of flesh, wringing more cries from the tense body under him. He swirled his tongue over the weeping, leaking head, ran it up and down the shaft, sucked Blair hard, then gently, varying the pressure and rhythm. Moisture ran from the hard cock, seeping from the slit at the top of the crown, and he slid the tip of his tongue around it, tasting the pre-come there, along with the stronger flavor that heralded the beginning of Blair's orgasm. Jim groaned deep in his chest and shifted, taking Blair root-deep, sucking fiercely, wanting to taste his friend's release.

"Oh! Oh...god...oh god...ohgodohgodohgod..." Blair panted, his hips arching upward, following the rhythm that Jim's mouth was setting. He was on fire, he was going to explode, he was about to have a heart attack. No one had ever done this for him, like this. It was as if Jim was sucking his soul out, replacing it with pure pleasure, pure sensation. He grasped at short hair, held Jim's head while his body thrust upward, driving himself deeper. "J-jim...!!!" That was the only warning he was able to articulate before his body convulsed and he released his cream into Jim's waiting mouth in long, hot spurts.

_Oh yeah._ Ellison groaned, his own body shaking from the power of Blair's orgasm. Hot, bitter-sweet, salty semen flooded his mouth and he swallowed eagerly, taking every drop and longing for more. He reached a hand down to cup and gently squeeze the hot balls that were drawn up so tight to Blair's body, pulling another moan from his partner. He sucked until the spasms stopped, then gently drew on the flaccid penis, licking carefully, cleaning his friend up. He felt an immediate pang of loss when he let the soft organ slide from between his lips and leaned down to kiss the tip tenderly before moving back up to pull a still shaking Blair into his arms.

"You okay?" he asked, softly, not wanting to break the spell that seemed to be over them. A magick spell, indeed, woven around them--a spell of love and trust.

"Y-yeah," Blair managed, curling into Jim's chest, trying to get his breathing under control. "Wow, man. That was..." he shuddered again, his voice still a little shaky.

"I know," Jim said, his voice holding gentle humor as he stroked Blair's back. "I felt it, too." He placed a kiss on the tip of his guide's nose, then cuddled him close, his voice more serious now. "I want you to hold on to that, Chief. Know how good it is...can be...when I can't...make it that good for you." His voice roughened with emotion, shaking a little when Blair hugged him back. "If they give me another injection, Blair, and we both know they will, I--" he broke off, shaking his head. "I don't know what will happen," he continued in a hoarse whisper. "I want to believe I wouldn't ra--take you with force...but I can't swear to that anymore. I know I don't have any right to ask this...but please...believe me when I say that I'll do all I can--" his voice broke on the last word and Jim Ellison buried his face in his guide's curls and shook with emotion.

"Jim." Blair's voice was barely a whisper, but Jim tightened his grip, indicating he heard him. "Don't do this to yourself, man. I know...what they're doing to you. I--" he paused to swallow, his own stomach tightening at the thought of Jim losing control that completely. "I believe in you, Jim. You won't hurt me...and even if you do, I know you don't mean to." He stroked his own hands over the tense back of the man holding him. "It's okay, man. We'll survive this together, Jim. Somehow, we'll come through it."

Ellison didn't say anything else, just gripped Blair tighter against him, trying to quell the shaking that was consuming him. _I hope so, Chief. I hope we make it through this...and that you forgive me someday for all this. Because I can't help but wonder how you'll not hate me, when we're out of here, and away from this, and you remember all of it. Oh, god, Blair...please don't hate me. I think I could stand anything but that. Anything._

They lay together, huddled in each other's arms, trying to give and draw strength, until Chardis came for them a short while later.

* * *

It felt like a repeat of the nightmare that had been yesterday. Forced out of bed, separated, humiliated. Drugged. Again.

Chardis injected him herself when she first entered the chamber; the needle was like a hot spike driving into his skin, skin that was still sensitive and over-stimulated from the previous injection just hours before.

"Why?" he moaned quietly, thinking he hadn't spoken out loud, until she answered him.

"Because today, detective, you _will_ make him scream. I'm going to make sure of it." She stroked her hand up and down his swollen, aching penis, laughing in his face when he groaned and arched into her hand. "You would fuck anything right now, wouldn't you? Just for the release. I could tell you to mount a goat and you would."

"No." Jim shook his head, opening eyes he'd squeezed shut when she began the torturous caresses. "I wouldn't fuck just anything. I _won't_." He gritted his teeth when her fingers slid down him, reaching to stroke and squeeze his testicles, which were throbbing harshly in time with his pulse.

"Oh, I imagine quite differently, detective. But since the purpose here is to get semen from you, it's counter-productive to _have_ you fuck anything else, isn't it?" She squeezed a little harder and Jim groaned. "You really need it, don't you?" her voice dropped to a low, seductive caress. "You want it so bad...need to fuck so bad, don't you? Want to take that little man over there and ram it deep inside him, don't you?"

"Noooo--"

Blair watched, horrified, as Chardis manipulated Jim's body nearly to the breaking point. His friend was ashen, droplets of sweat dripping from his face and down his chest.

"Listen to me, detective." The woman leaned in close, whispering, but making sure her voice was still loud enough for Blair to hear her as well. "You make him scream. Loudly. If you don't, I guarantee you will _both_ regret it." She squeezed once more, then nodded at Serita. "Assist our detective to his bath, Serita. I think he may need a little assistance getting there. And don't take the cock ring off until he's ready to get into the tub."

Blair held Jim's eyes until his partner was dragged away, his heart aching for the pain being forced on him. He refused to consider the possible pain that would be forced on _him_ before much longer.

* * *

The similarities to yesterday persisted with the rituals, although he wasn't cut again. That was the only difference that he could see--not that he was seeing much right now. Caught in the worst throes of the hallucinogens, he was barely aware of his humanity, much less anything going on around him. There was something different about the injection he'd been given this morning; it was stronger yet than anything he'd experienced so far. And he could _feel_ the heat burning through him, burning into him.

The sex-ritual that the women of the cult engaged in upon the completion of the mass nearly undid him. It took everything within him not to reach out and grab Sandburg; force him to the floor and take him right there, however unwilling both of them might be to that. The ever-increasingly smaller portion of his brain that was still capable of higher reasoning wondered if that was the intent: perhaps Chardis wanted to watch them perform right there, in the midst of the rest of the hellish nightmare.

To his everlasting relief, he was wrong. Apparently Chardis wasn't interested in watching two men having sex; not up close and personal, anyway. They were both jerked to their feet and led to stand before her. While they waited for her to finish the 'benediction' of the ceremony, Jim's arm was pulled back, and he felt a sting as Serita injected him yet again. Instantly the temperature inside him rose to unknown heights; he felt as though even his eyes were on fire. His cock jerked and bobbed, and again he was filled with the urge to shove Blair to his knees then and there, take him hard, take him over and over until the burning stopped. _They really want the violence,_ the still coherent part of his brain managed. _They'll do anything to get it, even risking an overdose._ A hard hand grasped his biceps, and he was half-led, half-dragged out of the room, Blair being pulled along behind him. They were thrust into their tiny cell, naked, just like yesterday. Except, unlike yesterday, today he felt like he _was_ capable of the rape they wanted, even while his inner-self recoiled from the thought.

_No, no, no! Can't do it! Not going to do it! _His brain burned with the thoughts, as though it was in collusion with his body; with the hormones raging out of control within him. A small sound caught his attention, and Jim whirled around, hot eyes seeking out what his body desired, required, craved. Blair. His guide was standing where he'd been thrust, next to the door, an odd look on his face. Jim started toward him, but Blair was faster. He closed the distance between them, and dropped to his knees.

Jim groaned out loud as Blair's hot, wet mouth fastened on him, sucking him almost ravenously. In that sane part of his mind, Jim knew that there was no way they'd be permitted to allow a blowjob to come to fruition; he half expected the bitches to come slamming into the room at any minute. He couldn't think anymore then, as his mind shut down from the pleasure being visited on his body. He gripped Blair's head tightly, twining strands of the silky hair around his fingers, anchoring him. Blair sucked faster and harder, pulling back occasionally to run his tongue along the length of Jim, licking with broad strokes. Jim looked down to see his cock disappearing and reappearing, in and out of Blair's mouth, and nearly lost it on the spot. He'd never seen anything so erotic before, as the sight of those sensuous lips closing and opening over him. He groaned again, and hissed, "Sandburg, what are you doing? I'm gonna come... We can't do it like this!"

Blair pulled himself back from Jim. "Getting you ready," he whispered harshly, as if the words hurt to say out loud.

Jim looked down at himself. Getting him ready? The whole picture slammed into him again as he heard the sounds of Blair working up more spit in his mouth, then taking his cock back into it. Blair was lubing him the only way he knew how, and at the same time, keeping Jim's lust at bay long enough to manage it. Jim felt warmth course through him that had nothing to do with the lust rushing through his body. "Blair--"

The younger man's voice was a raw hiss. "Make it look good, big guy. They want it rough, so make it look as rough as you can manage. We only get one chance at this." Blair licked Jim's cock once more for measure, then turned and knelt on the bench, wincing as the hard wood under his knees bit into his skin.

Jim positioned himself behind his partner, and rubbed a hastily moistened finger against Blair's pucker. He felt the younger man's flinch of pain, and cringed inwardly. He couldn't do it like this. Not to Blair. Never to Blair.

As if he read Jim's mind and intentions, Blair pushed backward and rubbed himself against Jim's body and cock. "Do it!" he hissed. "Just get it over with, man. I can handle it." He bowed his head, waiting.

Jim's body throbbed with the unexpected contact, and he fumbled to place the head of his fiercely engorged penis at the entrance to Blair's body. He felt the resistance of muscle, and it inflamed him further. "I'm sorry, Chief... I'm so sorry... I'll make this up to you somehow..." he whispered into Blair's hair as he thrust full inside in one hard stroke.

Blair stiffened, a scream clawing its way up his throat. _Oh, god, it hurts. I didn't think it would be this bad._ He grabbed the edge of the table for support as a pain so incredibly intense it stopped him breathing for several seconds shot through him. Jim stopped instantly, held still for a minute. His head was still leaning against Blair's, and the younger man could feel the hot tears dripping down his neck. Jim--_his_ Jim--was crying! Crying for him, over him. His own tears were still running down his face, and he reached up to wipe them away. In a voice rough with pain he whispered, "Come on, Jim, let's get this over with." His entire body ached now, and he wanted only to end this nightmare so he could lay down..

Jim pulled back, and began moving forward again, the fever building back up in his blood. Blair groaned and dropped his head, every line in his body tight with pain. Jim hated himself for what he was doing, but he had no control over it any longer. He stroked himself in and out of Blair several times before the need overtook him completely, and he picked up speed and intensity. A few hard thrusts was all it took, and he came into Blair, yelling wordlessly, trying to vent some of the anger, frustration and self-loathing he was feeling.

* * *

Those feelings increased exponentially over the next several hours as he took his partner over and over again. The primitive part of him was fully in control for the moment, and it knew only that it had a hunger that desperately needed appeasing.

Blair didn't scream again after that first time, but each sound he made thereafter was heavy with pain; barely stifled moans and soft grunts that went a long way toward nudging Jim's guilt up further.

He lay under the bigger man after the final shuddering thrust ended, his own body trembling with fatigue and pain. He ached deep inside, in places he hadn't realized were a part of him. The ache in his body, however, was nothing to the ache in his soul when he realized from the silence above him just how badly this had hurt Jim. Jim, who'd sworn he'd never hurt him...never force him...had done that. Well, he hadn't forced him, but it had hurt, and he knew that it was going to take him a lot of fast and fancy talking to convince Jim not to blame himself for the next lifetime or ten.

Large hands, incredibly gentle, smoothed over his sweaty hair, stroking gently. "I'm so sorry, Chief." It was the harsh, quiet whisper of guilt and self-hatred, and in his heart Blair flinched away from the tone.

He didn't get a chance to answer then, because the door slammed open, admitting Chardis, Serita, Yvelle and two other Amazon women.

 

* * *

  
Chapter 14

"And that we may be delivered from unreasonable men."  
\--_II Thessalonians 3:2_

 

This was the same, too. They came and took Blair away immediately; leading him to wonder if they were indeed watching them. How else could they have known when he was finished? He lay on the bed, an arm flung over his face, wondering how in the hell he'd ever look Blair in the eye again. He'd done what he swore he wouldn't do--he'd raped his partner. Maybe it could be argued that it wasn't rape because Blair had told him to do it that way, but it was damn sure close. As far as he was concerned it was rape. Jim closed his eyes, hearing again in his head the scream when he thrust into Blair, and the constant groans and whimpers his friend had made throughout. Friend. Did he even have the right to call Blair that anymore? He wondered if the self-loathing he felt right now would be evident when he looked into the mirror.

_The worst part is that we have one more day of this to get through. Sweet Jesus, if I was like this today, what will I be like tomorrow?_ The idea made him cringe, just considering it. _Blair's not gonna be in any kind of condition for this, either...no wonder all the autopsies showed signs of forced...of tearing. Shit. Fuck. Goddammit, these women have fucking ruined our lives! Even if we got out of here today, right this minute, nothing would ever be the same between us. Now I don't even the right to try and hold him and tell him how good I want to make it for him...how much I need him...how much I love him._

Something rumbled beneath him and Jim shifted upright, looking around suspiciously. He wasn't totally tripped out this time--he _was _hearing strange noises. He looked around again, trying to decide what he was hearing. There was a faint shaking that was discernible, as well. Discernible to him, anyway. Were they near a fault line? Or was the earth merely expressing its disapproval over his treatment of Blair?

At least the incredible burning lust that had consumed him had stopped. Not gone completely, but at a manageable level, anyway.

As if that mattered now. He'd committed an unholy act, for certain. The idea of forcing sex on anyone was abhorrent enough as it was, but to do that to--. He'd taken his friend, and used him -- used him hard, and without any pleasure or joy for that friend. Without permission. Without caring. No, that wasn't true. Blair had given him permission. He shuddered. _Gave me permission to fucking violate him. Rape him. Shit._ He shook his head. He'd cared, too. He'd cried while Blair cried; felt the tears and the pain same as his partner...his lover. Jim rolled over and curled into a fetal position, trying to contain the pain that was throbbing through him. He lay there feeling the tears start once again, hurting all over, sick to his stomach and sick at heart.

He'd nearly exhausted himself into sleep when the faintest sounds of a scream reached his ears. He jerked upright, shock knifing through his body. Oh, god, that was Blair screaming! He was off the bed and at the door before the first of the sound waves had passed by him.

"Hey! What are you doing to him! Chardis! Any of you, you BITCHES! What the fuck are you DOING TO HIM?" Jim banged his fists on the door, and screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to get someone's attention.

He yelled for what seemed like hours, but was probably in fact only a few minutes. He pulled back when he heard scratching at the lock on the door. It opened, and a thoroughly exhausted looking Blair was shoved in, and the door shut again, only the briefest glimpse showing it to be Yvelle returning him. Jim caught him as he stumbled, and they sank to the floor together. The older man ran his fingers through the dark curls, searching for unseen wounds. Unfortunately he could imagine all too well what they could do to Blair to cause enough pain to make his friend scream, without leaving some sort of physical wound.

"S'not there...wrong place," Blair mumbled when he felt Jim's fingers trailing over his head. He didn't want him to stop; it felt good awfully good to have those strong fingers gently smoothing over his head. But he felt like he should let him know he was looking in the wrong direction.

"Where, baby? Where'd they hurt you?" Jim was frantically running his hands over Blair's body now, searching desperately for the source of pain.

"Same place as before," Blair whispered hoarsely. "My throat hurts, Jim. Would you get me some water, please?"

The water coming from the tap today was tepid, rather than cold, but Blair drank it down greedily. It seemed to revive him a bit, and he shifted slightly, trying to get off of his buttocks. Jim caught the movement, and knew instantly where Blair was hurt. He helped his partner move onto the blankets, settling him on his stomach.

"I need to check, Chief," Jim said softly. "We need to know how badly you're hurt."

"I know," Blair whispered again. "Just...be careful. Don't --touch me too much, okay?"

"I won't." Jim closed his eyes briefly, then shifted around to a better position. Blair hissed in pain when he touched him, spreading him open carefully. Jim groaned. Any healing that had happened since yesterday had been eradicated. He wasn't ripped open or anything, but Jim could definitely see some tearing, with a small amount of blood over the area, and the skin around the anus was red and angry-looking, very inflamed. He took a deep breath. "What about inside, Chief? Do you feel like you're bleeding inside, or anything? Should I check?"

Blair paled slightly, but shook his head. "I--hadn't thought about that," he mumbled. "I don't know, man, I don't know what it would feel like." He shivered, feeling so exposed. "God, I hate this. I guess you should." He looked over his should at the man standing behind him. "What's the best position for you to do this?"

Jim looked at him, and then around the room. "I guess...right here on the bed, but um, on hands and knees, Chief." He turned and hurried into the small bathroom to retrieve the tube of medicated ointment from the medicine chest. When he returned, Blair was gingerly shifting himself into position, every movement apparently painful, judging from the expressions on his guide's face. Jim moved behind Blair, laying the ointment and a wet towel on the bed beside him. "It's gonna hurt, no matter what," he warned.

Blair took a deep breath and swallowed. "I know. Just...be as careful as you can, man."

"I will, Chief. Trust me."

"I do," Blair whispered. "I do."

Jim watched the line of Blair's back tense as he gently touched his cheeks. There was some bruising on the pale skin that he hadn't seen at first, being too hung up on the other injuries to his friend. Bruises in the shape of fingerprints, too small to be his. "I'm going to kill them all for this," he muttered to himself as he very carefully pressed Blair's cheeks apart. The younger man hissed again through his teeth, but made no other noise. Jim closed his eyes briefly, then opened them up to take a good look. With Blair up like this, the angle was better for really checking. The damage looked worse like this than when he'd first checked his him. One of the tears was long, and extended into the anal passage; the external area was torn, swollen and badly inflamed. Jim sighed. Because of the tear he could see extending inward, he needed to check inside; there was no way around it. "Blair?"

"Yeah, Jim." The tone of his voice made Jim realize that Blair knew what was coming.

"One of the tears goes into...goes in."

Blair was silent for a moment, then sighed. "Go ahead, man."

He picked up the small, wet towel and gently cleaned the raw skin, wiping away the blood that welled to the surface of the cuts with his shifting the skin around. He reached for the tube of ointment and smoothed some of it around the red, tender area.

"What are you doing?" Blair craned his head around trying to see. He could feel the cool gel; it actually felt very soothing against the fever heat of his ass.

"Well, the stuff needs to be put on anyway; I'm just using it to ease my way for you."

"Oh." Blair turned his head back around. He didn't want to watch any of this.

The fingers caught him by surprise, even though he was expecting them. He gasped in pain as painful, swollen tissues were parted, and tried to pull away from Jim. The older man leaned in and gently nuzzled one asscheek, pressing a soft kiss to the trembling skin "Easy, baby. I'll be done in a minute."

"Ow, Jim...it hurts...oh, god,..." Blair gasped as Jim moved his fingers around gently, trying to get the best angle of opening to ascertain the degree of damage.

"Okay, finished." Jim pulled his hand away. "I'm sorry, Chief, but we needed to know."

"And?" Blair eased back onto his knees and looked at Jim. His partner looked grim.

"No way, Blair. We'll have to talk to them tonight, or tomorrow morning. Another session like today--either of them--and you'll probably end up with something ruptured in there."

Blair shuddered at Jim's words, and carefully began shifting back onto the bed. Jim finished wiping his hands off, and turned to help him. He reached for Blair, then noticed the tears still on Blair's face. The older man touched a fingertip to one of them, and brought it to his mouth. He gently wiped Blair's face with the cloth in his hands, removing the physical evidence of the pain he'd caused him.

Afterward he helped the smaller man dress, moving him very carefully, pulling on boxers and sweater, deciding that his friend should forego the jeans for now. Too much movement, too much pain involved in that just yet. He tidied up the small room, put the ointment way and washed his hands thoroughly.

Blair didn't say a word, just watched him, eyes following his movements carefully. Jim wanted to run away and hide. He had no right to be here, taking care of his friend--as if he weren't the cause of the pain and trauma!

When he was done he sat down on the end of the bed, maintaining a distance when all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Blair and never let go. A shudder of longing ran through him; not to have sex with Blair, but just to hold him, kiss him, comfort him. To try and make amends for what he'd done today; although he knew he could never be forgiven for that. He could give him a thousand hugs, kisses, blowjobs like last night, and still not come close to making up for what he'd done. A hand touched his arm, and he looked up.

"Jim." Blair's eyes, open and trusting. "Don't do this, man. It wasn't your fault."

God, how many times had he heard those words from this man? This man who'd stayed beside him in spite of the countless number of times he'd been kidnapped, shot at, plotted against. And what kind of thanks did Jim give him? A pat 'good work, Chief', and a smile. Then it was, 'get your butt in gear, Sandburg, or 'quit messing up the house,' or some shit like that. Jim shook his head, looking at Blair, drowning in those blue eyes. "Blair..." He didn't even know where to begin to start in his apologies.

"Don't, Jim. I mean it. It wasn't your fault. The fact that I've survived this as...intact... as I have is a reflection on how much you..." Blair swallowed, "...you care. Anyone else--"

"Anyone else wouldn't have gotten you in this situation in the first place, Chief!" Jim couldn't contain the explosion. "It's because of me that you're here to start with!"

Blair shook his head, and pushed the hair out of his eyes. "You don't know that, man." Blair watched Jim open his mouth to protest, and shook his head again. "You have no way of knowing that I got grabbed because of my association with you, Jim. These women are _off_ the deep end, man. Like, not firing on all cylinders, you know?" The younger man shrugged carefully. "We never did figure out what they were using as a basis for selection, Jim. I could have been chosen as much for my long hair as for the fact that I'm your partner. I think," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "I think that they hadn't been having real good luck with the random pairs they were choosing, and wanted to try a, uh, couple who already knew each other...was comfortable with each other."

Jim shrugged himself. "Maybe. We don't know that."

"We don't know that that _isn't_ the motivation, either. Chardis has made a few comments that make me think that's the case." Blair shivered as the cool air in their room assaulted him. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter now, does it? Come over here?" He patted the bed next to him, tried to smile.

Ellison shook his head, his lips tight, nearly white from being so tightly compressed together.

Blair shifted a little closer to Jim. "C'mon, man. Come lay down over here, okay? I still need some extra body heat."

"How can you ask me?" Jim demanded. "It should sicken you to be near me; not asking me to come hold you."

"Why?"

"_Why_?" Jim repeated, incredulously. "Jesus Fucking Christ, Sandburg! Because I raped you, not more than an hour ago! _That's_ why!"

"No, Jim. You didn't rape me. I gave you the go ahead. You weren't going to be in control for very long, I could see that. You were barely in control as it was. I didn't see any other way to deal with it, because, in the end, you might have raped me if you had to wait too long. But Jim," Blair moved so that he could see into Jim's eyes. They were shining with unshed tears. "Man, I _offered_ it to you like that, okay? Those bitches that call themselves women wanted it rough and violent; we gave it to them. Maybe they'll leave us alone now, for a bit, anyway." Blair drew back toward the blankets. "Come on, big guy."

Jim sat there for a minute longer, then moved to join Blair under the blankets, huddling close to his friend, trying to help him warm up.

Jim was quiet for a long time, and Blair had begun to think he was asleep when a long, warm fingers started combing through his hair. He made a quiet murmur of appreciation and settled more comfortably against the larger frame. Jim's voice was like warm honey moving over him when it rumbled in his ear.

"I've got something weird going on with my senses, Chief."

He let his eyelids flutter back open and rolled his head a little to better see the other man. "I wouldn't doubt it, with all the shit that's been pumped into you," he offered cautiously. Jim shook his head.

"I can hear--the earth rumbling. Feel it shaking." He paused, then added, "Core temperature's up, too, I think. The water is warmer today than it was yesterday. And there's a strange smell hanging in the air. Almost like sulfur."

Blair sniffed, throwing Jim an unreadable look. "You know I don't normally question anything related to your senses, man, but are you sure--"

"Look, Sandburg. The shit they've been giving me has me pretty fucked up, yeah, but not that bad. I'm not hallucinating smells or sounds." _You weren't so sure last night,_ his brain laughed gleefully.

"Okay," the younger man shifted into guide mode. "What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know. If I knew I wouldn't bring it up, would I?"

"Hey, man, chill. I'm not the enemy here, remember?" The grad student shivered and moved a little closer, shifting to spoon against his friend.

Jim flushed a dull red that he was thankful Blair couldn't see. "Sorry, Chief. I'm just--this is frustrating the hell out of me." He heard a low-pitched growl and wasn't at all surprised to see the panther moving around the small room. He and his spirit guide were getting awfully cozy these days.

"Okay, so you're hearing shit, and smelling and feeling...you said earth rumbling, right? Core temp up, stuff like that?"

"Yeah." Jim shrugged. "Almost sounds like seismic activity, doesn't it?"

Blair nodded warily. "I'm thinking so, yeah. Isn't there a fault line in the Cascades?"

The detective pursed his lips thoughtfully. "It's been a long time since I had any geography, but I think so, yeah."

"Well that really sucks, man." Blair closed his eyes, contemplating an earthquake or volcanic eruption while they were dealing with the high priestess from hell. "Fuck, could this _get_ any worse?"

Jim smiled, reluctantly. "Never ask that, Chief," he rumbled in the younger man's ear. "You usually don't want the answer."

"Yeah, yeah." Blair snuggled sleepily into the arms that were folded around him. He felt safe here. Safe, warm, loved. He was only mildly surprised to find that the last word in there didn't faze him like it did a week or so ago.

"You should try to sleep. Let your body work at healing itself." Jim couldn't have stopped his arms from holding Blair if he'd cut them off. It seemed his body felt that Blair Sandburg fit there perfectly, naturally, and that was all that mattered. His fingers itched to pet the younger man, to pepper the smaller, sturdy body with caresses that would wipe away any memory of the time spent here. _I wish there was some way to ensure that he wouldn't remember this at all...that I could erase his thoughts of all this ugliness. That would also erase his memory of the little bit of time Jim had gotten to spend loving Blair. I want him to remember that I care about him. _His heart ached at the thought of Blair not remembering their time together, especially last night. His brain shot back, _better to not remember you then to hate you or feel sorry for you for the rest of your time together._ Which would be how long, exactly? How long after this would it be until Blair conveniently got transferred to another university, or called out on an expedition, or something else that would take him away from Jim?

_Stop that,_ he chastised himself sternly. Sandburg wasn't going anywhere. At least not for as long as he thought Jim needed help with the sentinel issues.

"I'm sleepy, but not ready to sleep, I don't think." Blair paused, considering. He'd been wondering for over a week now; surely after all that had happened between them Jim would tell him what he wanted to know about his mysterious "experience". "Um...can I ask you something?"

Jim's radar went on alert. "I guess," he offered cautiously. "What d'you want to know?"

"Well...actually, I'd like to know about...you. What you meant when you said, y'know, that you swing both ways, and have for a while." The grad student was suddenly very glad that his back was to Jim; this way his friend couldn't see the blush covering his cheeks. _What am I doing, asking him this? This is way personal--he doesn't owe me that information, nor do I have any right to it._

"You sure this is something you want to know?" Ellison questioned, his voice very neutral.

"Well, yeah, man. That's not something you can just toss at me and expect me to not be a little curious about. Especially since you look like Mr. Alpha Macho Male." Blair tried for light and casual, then winced when he realized that wasn't really the way to go. "I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to sound--"

"It's okay, Chief." The voice was deep and quiet in his ear, but there was no trace of unwillingness to talk; only some sadness and wistfulness, perhaps a shred of resignation.

"You don't have to say anything, man. Forget I asked."

"No, I suppose I do sort of owe you an explanation after the comments I made that day, huh."

"You don't _owe_ me anything, Jim. Not a thing." _I'm dying to know, man, but there's no way I'm going to pressure you into telling me anything you're not comfortable with._

"I guess it's not really a big deal, Chief, I just got used to not saying much to many people; you can't always tell beforehand who's going to react in what way to the news that their partner or friend is bisexual."

"Yeah, I know." Blair was reluctant to say much; he didn't get Jim to open up like this very often.

"I've just pretty much always known I liked guys as well as women. I knew that as far back, I guess, as grade school--y'know, when you first start looking at girls. Well, I checked out the guys, too. I also knew it wasn't something to discuss with anyone else, 'cause at that time my dad was pretty vocal about 'fags' and 'queers', and I didn't want to open myself up to that.

"I got the opportunity to do some experimenting with a guy in one of my classes in junior high. We figured out we were mutually attracted to each other after some awkward stop and start shit, but for me it was a given; I popped a boner every time I was around him." There was a smile in Jim's voice, Blair was sure of it. He smiled too, remembering himself at thirteen, walking around with his books piled high and carried low.

"I still wasn't sure if it meant I was gay, or bisexual, or just being creative, until after I got out of school and into college. I figured out pretty quick that I swung both ways; there was no lack of opportunities for either sex, and a lot of people found me, uh, attractive. I fielded a lot of offers, chose carefully, and had a good time. The army was a lot quieter; I dated a lot of women, and was very careful about the men I saw." Jim was quiet then for a moment, then the warm voice continued, "It also taught me that life is too short to get hung up on the gender of a person; if you like that person and it's right for both of you, then you should go for you. I did a lot of soul searching for a while, because I was convinced there was something wrong with me, I mean, why should I like guys, when there were so many attractive, interesting women available. Once I got past dealing with that, things were pretty good."

"Do you like one better than the other?" Blair nearly held his breath waiting for Jim to answer the question; he preferred not to examine too closely why he'd asked it.

"I guess...it would depend on what was or is, going on in my life at the time. I went through a period for a long time where I didn't turn on to guys at all. That was when I married Carolyn. It just seemed easier; not as many potential headaches or questions. I mean, once in a while I'd see a guy I was attracted to, but not many."

"What about now?" He _was_ holding his breath this time, the tightness in his lungs nearly choked him.

Jim tightened his arms around the smaller man he was holding. "What's with the line of questioning, Chief?" he asked softly, right in Sandburg's ear. "You got something to say, say it."

Blair shook his head, and swallowed, his throat tight. "I don't know, man. But I'm starting to think..."

"Think what?" Jim prompted, when his partner had been quiet for a minute or two.

Blair laughed nervously. "That it feels very right to be here...in your arms. Natural, like it was meant to be." He sighed and closed his eyes. "When I've got your arms around me, I feel like nothing in the world can hurt me. Like I'm invincible, or something." He opened his eyes back up, shifting in the older man's arms to look into Jim's eyes. "Weird, huh?"

Jim didn't say anything, simply closed the small distance between them and covered Blair's mouth with his own. The kiss was sweet and gentle, and startling for its intensity. When they parted they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, staring at one another. A thousand words were telegraphed silently between them, then Blair sighed and leaned in toward Jim, mouth opening for him, tongue inviting. Jim accepted the gift, and returned it in measure. He wrapped his arms tightly around Blair, and rolled, pulling the younger man on top of him. Blair framed Jim's face with his hands and deepened the kiss, pressing himself full length against Jim. He broke the kiss then to nuzzle the corded muscle of Jim's neck, stroking his cheek, feeling the whiskers that had begun to grow since they'd last shaved. The older man sighed and tightened his embrace.

"Jim," Blair whispered, not wanting to speak aloud for fear of ruining the moment.

"Yeah, Chief?" Jim started stroking Blair's hair, running his fingers through it.

"What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

Blair closed his eyes to let the sensation of Jim's fingers in his hair wash over him. He pulled in a breath and opened his eyes to look at Jim. "What is all this, Jim? What are we doing?"

"We're comforting each other. Taking the best of a bad situation and trying to find some good in it."

"There's more to it than that." The normally vibrant voice was subdued some, rich tones husked with emotion.

"What do you think we're doing?" Jim watched his partner's expressive face; it was a marvel to try and interpret all the expressions that flittered across.

Blair drew in a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Jim's. "I can't speak for how you feel, man," he began softly, "but I think I'm falling in love with you."

Jim's heart thudded to a stop for a moment, then began hammering against his chest. A warm glow spread through his stomach, warming him clear through. He stroked Blair's face with a fingertip, gently brushing some curls out of his guide's face. "I'm already there, Chief," he said, voice catching in his throat with the realization of how much he _did_ love this man.

"Really?" Blair asked, kissing the finger that was stroking his lips. "When did that happen?"

Jim shrugged. "I don't know. For a while, I think. I've just not said anything, because I didn't want to freak you out. It's hard enough to walk the fence without fucking up friendships because of it; I didn't want to do or say something that would make you uncomfortable."

Blair lowered his head and nuzzled the soft skin just below Jim's jaw, tasting the scratchiness of unshaven whiskers against his tongue when he licked gently. "I've been...having thoughts...about you for a while," he said quietly, his mouth pressed to the warm skin, lips moving slowly over it. "I didn't want to say anything for pretty much the same reasons...and I'm like totally clueless at reading some of the signs, I guess."

"I don't imagine there were many, Chief--I've learned over the years. Some lessons were too important not to memorize. Survival and self-defense are always core issues; when dealing with a sexual preference that the majority thinks goes against the norm, well, those issues become front and center. I generally wait until I've read someone else's signals before sending any of my own."

A soft chuckle and a sigh greeted him, and Jim found himself smiling, not even sure why. "What?"

"Here I was so concerned that I might say or do something that would make you think I was interested...and if I had I could have saved both of us a lot of time and trouble."

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Sandburg. If I'd been paying attention, I probably would have _seen_ any signals you might have thrown out. I was just so convinced that it was something in my head that never could be--I mean, I never so much as smelled another guy on you, so why would I have reason to think you'd be interested, right?"

Blair's eyes shone as he gazed down into Jim's. "Interested," he whispered, lowering his mouth once more to brush his partner's. "Definitely interested, big guy."

Then the moment for words was past and their mouths were moving against each other's, tasting, exploring, learning, devouring with a quiet intensity that told of passions and feelings far more eloquently than an exchange of words might.

"Mmmm..." Blair purred against Jim's mouth several long minutes later, when they broke apart. "I wonder if kissing is a marketable talent; man you've got it in spades."

"Thanks, I think." Jim grinned at the still-dazed expression on his lover's--could he call him this?--face. "You're not so bad yourself, y'know." He traced a finger over and over around slightly kiss-swollen lips, felt himself slowly drifting, getting lost in the heat and moisture and texture he found there.

Blair's voice called him back from that safe place a minute or so later, and he blinked owlishly, trying to remember what happened. What had trigged this one?

"Me." The voice was quiet, concerned. Jim looked up into scared blue eyes and found his stomach tightening. "Jim...man, you zoned on _me_. What's up with that? With you? What were you doing?"

"Thinking. About you." Jim smiled gently at the expression on Blair's face, trying to alleviate the fear he saw there, as well as his own guilt at causing it. "You've pretty much been the only thing on my mind lately, not counting...this," Jim waved his hand around them. He turned back to Blair, looking down at his guide with undisguised tenderness lighting his eyes. Blair's eyes were dilated from the poor lighting, but Jim could see love and trust shining in there. And something else. That connection they'd had earlier--something binding them together, above all else. He watched the lush, pouty lips part, and the tip of a wet, pink tongue emerge to lick at lips gone suddenly dry; knew he had to taste those lips, explore that mouth again. Jim slowly inclined his head and touched his own tongue to them; tasted salt and sweat before discovering the taste of Blair beneath. He traced the outline of Blair's lips, then leaned in to deepen the kiss.

Blair opened for Jim willingly, allowing himself to be swept along in the maelstrom that was surrounding him. Admitting his feelings to Jim had opened him up, exposed him in a way he'd never experienced before; it was frightening and exhilarating all at the same time. He moaned into the older man's mouth as Jim's tongue swept through his mouth, tasting each crevice, exploring each nook. A warmth that he hadn't felt in days suffused his entire body, and Blair luxuriated in it. Jim's body was warm and solid pressing against his. Such a contrast in tastes and textures, Blair thought dizzily as he pulled his mouth away from Jim's to nip at the curve of his jawbone. He ran a questing hand down the large body holding him, enjoying the feel of hard bone and muscle under surprisingly soft skin. His fingers danced across Jim's ribs, tickling slightly, and the older man pulled back with a smothered groan.

"Hey, we're supposed to be nice to each other," Jim said breathlessly.

"I thought I was." Blair grinned up at him, his own breathing still labored. "Wanna see just how nice I can be? I--" He broke off when Jim held a hand up. "What?"

"Someone's coming."

They shifted positions, with Jim taking up a protective stance in front of the smaller man. Blair shivered as he watched the long line of Jim's back tense and tighten in front of him. _The man is my blessed protector. This has to be killing him, to have to be here, unable to stop what's happening. And factor other emotions into the mix..._ Upon thinking about it in that light, he was surprised that he hadn't seen more of Jim's primitive side than he had.

The door swung open and Yvelle and another woman entered the small room. Yvelle was holding the usual tray with the usual things on it. She worked with her usual brisk efficiency, placing the drinks on the table, then turning and injecting Jim before he'd even had time to register the syringe. She dismissed the other woman, who'd obviously been along as muscle if it had proven necessary, then turned to look at Jim and Blair, sitting defiantly close on the bed, their body language saying much about their feelings toward one another. An odd expression came over her face, and her eyes changed, softened.

"So--it's happened at last." The voice was soft, and gentle, and very unlike the Yvelle they'd come to know.

"What's...happened?" Jim asked cautiously, his brain steadfastly ignoring the burning that was rising again.

"You've found each other, completed the circle. That's good--you'll need each other to survive this. Be warned, Sentinel. You and your guide are in mortal danger in this place. Trust no one other than yourselves. You can persevere, but you will be tested severely before that comes to pass."

The two men exchanged looks. This was _definitely_ not the Yvelle they knew. They looked back to not-Yvelle. She stood calmly, very still, beside the door. Blair cleared his throat, and she turned her gaze on him. He considered her for a moment, then asked, "Who are you?"

"Who I am is not important. I won't be here in another minute, and may not come again. I was allowed in to give you a word of encouragement, to let you know you're not alone. You understand that you are in danger, but the dangers that face you here surpass any you could imagine. Trust in each other, always. A sentinel and guide have a bond between them that is unbreakable, as long as both trust the other. She paused and looked at them. "Rest easy, Sentinel. There are those who are looking out for you; you've seen one of them already. Our strength is with you, to help you through this." She stopped and turned toward the door. "There will be no more direct contact, Sentinel. You and your guide are being watched, but we may not intervene. Farewell."

"Wait!" Jim called urgently, not believing what he'd just seen or heard. Yvelle turned to them.

"What, Detective." It was Yvelle's voice again, and Jim sighed.

"Never mind. Are we finished for the evening?"

"That's not up to me, Detective, but I would imagine so." She smirked at him. "I'm sure Chardis will let you know if she needs your, ah, talents, again." Yvelle opened the door and left the room. Blair waited for the space of several heartbeats before turning to Jim.

"What was that all about? And who have you seen? What'd she mean?"

Jim shook his head. "I think she meant the panther--I've seen him several times lately; he's been pacing the room here with us for the last couple of days, usually when I'm...waiting for them to bring you back to me. As for what it's all about--you tell me, Professor. You're the one with all the esoteric knowledge, and information on different cultures and whatnot."

Blair replayed the warning in his head, and laughed uneasily. "A guardian angel? Some subset for sentinels? That's what she referred to you as. Not your name, or title, but your calling. And she called me your guide."

"Because you are." Jim stroked a finger down Blair's cheek, and smiled when he leaned into the caress.

"But how would she have known, otherwise?" There was a pause, then Blair continued, "I don't know, man. Who's to say it wasn't just Yvelle trying to freak us out? She's as weird as the other two."

Jim nodded, considering that possibility, then rejecting it. Disbelieving cynic that he was, he'd changed his mindset considerably since Blair had come into his life. And his experiences in Peru last year had forced him to totally reconsider some of this thought processes. He had to admit too, as weird as things were around here, he kind of liked the idea of _someone _looking out for them; whoever that someone was. "Well, we've been warned, anyway. Let's get up and drink our dinner. I've decided it tastes better cold than lukewarm." He got off the bed, his eyes warm as they caressed his partner.

Blair nodded, and extended a hand to Jim for help standing. He winced as the torn tissues stretched and pulled with his movements. A long glance at Jim assured him that his friend had seen the grimace, probably heard the indrawn breaths. He sighed at the older man's expression. "Let's don't do this again, Jim. I don't have the energy to go another round. They hurt me far, far worse than anything you've done." He paused, then whispered, "I love you," as he pulled himself to his feet, using the larger man for leverage.

Jim pulled him close and hugged him, shaking against the smaller body. "I love you, Blair. I am so, so sorry that I hurt you--again."

Blair sighed, his arms wrapped tightly around Jim. _Man, assuming we do get out of here, both of us are gonna need a shitload of therapy to deal with all this._ "Let's wash up, and drink our dinner before it's warm. I don't want to talk about you blaming yourself anymore, 'cause I don't subscribe to the same ideas, man."

Jim nodded, and helped Blair to the bathroom, since his range of motion was rather limited at the moment.

 

 Continued in Part 5


	5. In Darkness Alone

Chapter 15

And those which remain shall Hear, and Fear, and shall  
Henceforth commit no more any such Evil among you.  
\--_Deuteronomy 19:20_

 

In spite of her claims that they were finished for now, during the remainder of the 'evening' and 'night', Yvelle came back twice more to inject Jim. Each time sent him further into a hallucination-driven world, until, after the second visit, which made the third injection since the ritual had ended, Jim simply stopped coming out.

Blair held his lover in his arms, cradling him close, crooning soothing words into an ear that didn't seem to hear him any longer. Instead, the bigger man shook and moaned, his body shuddering under a continuous onslaught of stimulation. The grad student undressed Jim with the same tenderness that his partner had shown in helping _him_ get dressed earlier in the day, then shifted him into a fetal position on the bed and draped himself around the older man. He'd protect Jim at any cost. No one was getting by him tonight.

_He barely knows who I am. How are we going to handle this tomorrow? How's he supposed to know what he's doing if he can hardly comprehend which end is up?_ That horrid, insistent voice in his mind chimed in with what he was really worried about, down in the deepest, darkest corner of his soul: _How's he going to keep from raping me, if he doesn't know it's me...if he doesn't know what he's doing?_ His calm, rational brain shook its head. _Get a grip, Sandburg. What are you really afraid of, here? Jim? No, not Jim. The actual rape itself? No. That won't be pleasant, but I'll manage. So, what then?_ The answer when it came didn't surprise him one bit. _Jim will never forgive himself if he ever learns that he hurt me--raped me. Never._

He shook his head, his heart aching more than it had since they'd arrived at this little slice of hell on earth. He tightened his grip on his hot, shaking partner, and closed his eyes, determined to try and get some sleep. The last thing he was aware of was a strange sort of prescience, with a dark, slinking shadow moving around their room, and the quiet rumble of a large cat.

* * *

_Hot. Damp. Dark. Rumbling, trembling noises and strange, belching groans. Red-hot, molten fire and flowing death. The sharp smell of sulfur all around, bitter, tangy. A deep, grumbling roar, muted through layers of rock and earth and nature's waste. Primeval noises , restless shifting and shuddering. Other noises, different, yet similar. Growling. A dark, sleek hunter, moving sinuously through damp rock, prowling, seeking. Muted rumblings from the ebony chest, rumblings that boded ill for the enemy the hunter wanted. More dark, with long, flowing hair and midnight eyes like ice and the hunter growled a warning, issued a challenge. The challenge was accepted and the hunter was surrounded by heat. Wet heat, dry heat. Other groans, louder, insistent. Pain. The enraged screams of a hunter bent on retribution. Mate. _HIS_ mate. Wet...salt damp and earth smells. Warm. Heat. Hot. HOT!!!_

The man who once knew himself as Jim Ellison bolted upright, the warmth that had encircled him falling away from the force of his surge. He looked around wildly, seeing the images of his dreams as if they were still imprinted on his eyelids. He gave a harsh, barking laugh, then shifted as the warmth next to him stirred. He felt a throbbing in his body, an ache that shifted and moved, but stayed with him always. The warmth became a figure, and the figure opened vibrantly colored eyes to stare at him. The lips moved, and sound came out, but he couldn't understand what was being said to him. He kept hearing the word "Jim", but didn't recognize it as something he should know. He watched the other figure carefully, his instincts telling him that although he needed to be on guard here, he was safe from this one. There would be no harm from this quarter. There was familiarity here, as well. He sniffed, then scented the figure, recognizing the layers of fragrance. This was his! This figure here was _his_. He was safe here.

"Jim?" Blair watched his partner, the odd, faraway look in the sky-blue eyes scaring him a little bit. Well, no, scaring him a lot. "Jim, man, you're freaking me out here! Jim!!" He reached a hand out to shake Jim's shoulder gently, wondering if his lover was in a zone-out. He drew the limb back in shocked surprise when Jim growled--_growled_\--at him.

_His_ was trying to touch him. He growled a gentle, but unmistakable warning and watched the hand draw away from him. After a stretch of time during which the only sound was the pounding, racing heartbeat of _his_, the figure laid back down and relaxed his body. There was something very soothing, very trusting about the way _his_ laid there, body relaxed, open, trusting. This was okay, right? He felt nothing to indicate otherwise. After another span of time he settled himself back down next to the smaller, warm figure, rumbling softly deep in his throat when the warmth moved back over him again, as _his_ drew up close behind him, laying an arm over him. After a time he was even able to go back to his dark, hot dream-filled sleep.

Blair lay there trying to control the shakes that were working their way through him. Jim had settled back down, let him spoon up behind him and embrace him...but who _was_ this? It sure as hell wasn't _his_ Jim. This man was primal, primitive, reacting based on instinct. He seemed to recognize Blair at some very basic level--or at least recognized that he wasn't a threat, but he didn't _know_ him.

_This is going to be the final ritual. When Jim takes me, this last time, that's it. If Chardis doesn't get pregnant, we'll be dead inside two weeks. And if she does get pregnant..._ That was an open question, something both of them had intended to discuss and never got around to. What _would_ happen to them? It wasn't like Chardis could just set them free--not when they knew who she was, where she was (_not really_, his mind scoffed), the other murders. No, in all likelihood, they were gonna be dead soon; it was just a matter of _how_ soon.

Blair sighed and tried to clear his mind enough to sleep, figuring that he was going to need to be as rested as possible for in the morning. For the final ceremony. For the--. His mind shied away from that word because that wasn't what it was going to be about. _Rape is about violence and power and control. Jim has been manipulated and pushed to a point where he has no choice but to listen to his body's urges, but that doesn't mean he's raping me. He'll take me hard, probably, and I don't doubt but what it'll hurt, _he winced as his ass throbbed, reminding him that he was already tender and sore there, never mind whatever would happen later on, _but it's not fucking going to be rape! You can't rape someone who's willing. And forgetting all the rest of that, Jim wouldn't hurt me. Not on purpose; not unless he's been pushed and prodded and forced to do so. He cried today, for Chrissakes, when _I_ made him take me hard. Jim's not in control of himself, and hasn't been since we got here. If anyone is 'raping' me, it's the bitches that have set all this up._

He shivered lightly, in spite of the heat being thrown from his partner, then pressed his lips drowsily to the tender skin at the nape of Jim's neck. "I love you," he whispered. "I know you wouldn't hurt me if you were in control. None of this is your fault; neither one of us has had any kind of control over the situation nor how we've been used. I just hope I can convince _you_ of that, someday."

* * *

For the second time that night he flung himself upward, responding to strange dreams and visions, sounds and feeling. Except, this one had seemed _so_ real! He knelt there on the bed, panting, as he considered what he'd just felt. Almost like a shaking, but not that pronounced. Something warm touched his leg, very tentatively, and he glanced down. A hand. A hand that wasn't his. He followed the line up the arm, across the shoulder, and glanced into fathomless blue eyes.

"Y-you shouldn't touch me...," he ventured, his voice a low, hoarse growling noise.

"Why not?" the body next to him asked, voice soft, soothing. He stared at the figure, his nostrils flaring as he scented him again, making sure it was the same as before. _His._

"It's not safe." He shook his head then, not really understanding the questions, just kind of responding from his gut, from a very basic level.

Blair nodded solemnly. "Do you want me to stop touching you?" For a half a second he'd believed he saw a flicker of recognition inside those icy-hot eyes, but now he wasn't so certain. At the look of puzzlement on Jim's face he sighed. "Move my hand?" _Keep it simple, stupid. Jim's operating at the Neanderthal level right now._

Jim nodded and Blair withdrew his hand, watching in further puzzlement as the bigger man closed his eyes, breathing deeply, opening his mouth as he inhaled. _He's obviously trying to do something...the question here is what?_ Calling Jim's name got no response. He watched him get off the bed and pace, no, _prowl,_ around the room. He'd just opened his mouth to ask again, when his partner turned to him, light eyes dark with anguish.

"I can feel it...feel the earth shivering. Something's wrong, but I don't know what...just that I can smell things...and I hear things...and I can feel the walls shiver. There's something all wrong with me, too. I can feel myself burning inside, and I don't know how to make it stop. Do you know how to make it stop burning?"

Blair was still staring at him, trying to find an answer, when the door opened.

* * *

Jim growled when the women entered the room, and Blair felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. His lover sounded almost like a large jungle cat; angry, ready to hurt whatever got in his way. Chardis gestured toward Jim and two large women grabbed him tightly and held on, hardly fazed by his bucking and moving. Blair closed his eyes when the familiar syringe was whisked out, and Jim's groan when the plunger was depressed and the dark liquid pumped into him made the younger man's stomach churn.

"Are you trying to kill him?" he asked hoarsely, watching Chardis from the corner of his eye. He trembled violently when she turned her full gaze on him, but managed to stay his ground.

"Well, well, Mr. Sandburg... Getting a touch of spirit back, are we? Perhaps we'll have to rectify that. Although," Blair shuddered as the evilest smile he'd ever seen curved around Chardis' lips, "I don't think you'll be much in the 'spirited' mood after your detective gets finished with your ass later. In fact, I don't imagine there will be much of your ass _left_." She laughed then, a dark laugh that sounded as though it had been pulled up from the depths of hell itself.

"Why?" he whispered then, turning his eyes back to Jim, watching the other man shudder violently, his body tense and tightly coiled.

"Oh, nothing personal, I assure you," Chardis' voice was low and near to his ear. He whirled in alarm when she touched his cheek lightly. "You've been the most interesting of all of them. It'll almost be a shame to see the two of you gone."

He _definitely_ didn't like the sound of that and turned his head away. Jim was struggling violently now, straining for something, growling and moaning like a wild animal. He could see his friend was nearly at a fever pitch of lust and arousal and shuddered. _It won't be rape,_ he reminded himself. _Jim wouldn't rape me; this...caricature...that they've made him into is not Jim, and doesn't know what he's doing. He's not in control of anything, much less the baser instincts. It's not rape. Not rape. _Even believing what he was telling himself, the younger man didn't want to focus his thoughts on what was coming up. Chardis leaned in close again and purred in his ear.

"What's the matter, Mr. Sandburg? Imagining the delights that are waiting for you? After all, it's not often that one gets to fuck with a wild animal, is it? And, I can assure you, that's what your precious detective is right now. He's not aware of anything but the most basic needs of his body, and he will take whatever he requires to fulfill those needs." Her voice dropped to a low, pulsing whisper, her hot breath brushing over his ear. "He'll be pushed to the edge, Mr. Sandburg, and then we'll turn him loose on you. Animal instincts. That's all he'll be operating on. Are you scared? You should be. There's every possibility he'll rip you apart." She stepped back then, as if to gauge the effectiveness of her words, and seemed pleased to see Blair pale and shaking.

He shook his head slowly, trying to ignore the impact her words had on his areas of less-than-higher-reasoning. "No he won't. _Jim_ won't. The beast you've turned him into might...but _Jim_ won't hurt me."

Chardis smirked at him. "Believe what you will, little man. In the end it won't matter, when you're lying on the floor, bleeding. Will it?" She turned away then, gesturing to the other large woman in the room to escort Blair out. "Oh, Mr. Sandburg." His escort halted, leaving him no choice. "One other thing. There will be no ritual bath today; you will go as defiled as possible for this ultimate defilement."

Blair shook within the large woman's grasp. "You are one fucking sick, twisted bitch, aren't you?" he whispered hoarsely. His answer was a cuff upside the head by his escort, before he was dragged from the room.

* * *

He was aware only of the heat within his body, of the need to take and take and take until the heat was released and he could find calm and peace again. Fire and ice danced around him, spinning circles within his head until he was dizzy with need, consumed by hunger. There was no before, no after, there was only _now_, and the need which consumed him.

Eyes normally a light, sky-blue in color had darkened and dilated, leaving the thinnest circle around wide, deep black. He watched the others file into this small, dark room, lit only by flicking fire that danced on the walls. One he scented as male, the rest were female. The scent of arousal was high in the small room, and the need and hunger burning within him rose higher, approaching his limits and ability to cope. He growled low when the male was led before him, then held there while he sniffed and tasted, then growled louder when the shaking figure was moved away. A female appeared before him, offering herself for the same, shuddering under his touch as he licked his way around her body, tasting her arousal. He bit into the flesh offered him and felt the tremors below his feet echo those shifting through his body. Hot hands touched his body, then one grasped his and placed it directly on the wet heat between her legs. He moaned and grabbed for her.

Blair watched in horror as Jim pulled Chardis toward him, biting and clawing at her in an effort to get her close to him. He'd been shocked by the blatant animal lust shining in his partner's eyes, and horrified by the total lack of recognition in those same, when he'd been led before him. Jim had sniffed around him and licked over him, tasting him, and never once appeared to know who he was. One corner of his mind was overwhelmingly relieved by this; maybe Jim wouldn't remember any of this, wouldn't remember what he'd been forced to do. The rest of his mind was gibbering in terror; in spite of all of his rationalizations, and the fact that he did NOT in fact hold Jim responsible, this wasn't Jim any longer. He couldn't predict what this...thing...would do. Well, he could predict it...but he certainly didn't want to.

His shock and horror mutated into a feeling so overwhelming he no longer could place it, since he had no previous experience with it, when he watched as his partner was pushed onto his back on a low bench, then mounted by the devil bitch herself. Oh, _shit_, she was going to use _herself_ to drive Jim to that point of no return.

In the flickering fire and candlelight of the ritual chamber, the figures in front of him cast eerie shadows on the walls. Jim writhed and moaned and panted below, with Chardis riding above him, her arms stretched upward and head flung back, calling out in a strange, harsh language.

Then there was a strange, hushed silence, and a loud, groaning bellow roared through the stillness of the room as Chardis pulled herself from Jim's body, leaving him lying on the bench, his body arching upward. Blair shook violently as two women dragged him forward at the same time that two others pulled the now-furious Jim upward. He was shoved down onto his hands and knees on the floor in front of Jim, his whole body shaking in fear, his mind whirling. He could see Chardis standing off to the side, panting slightly, locked in an embrace with Serita, as the other woman's mouth moved over her sweating body, seeking to alleviate the sexual arousal there. She smirked at him over Serita's shoulders, then nodded to the two women who'd been holding the fiercely struggling Jim.

"Release him."

* * *

This was the male he'd scented earlier, before the female had mounted him and teased him nearly to breaking. There was a faintly familiar tang now that he scented him again, but it was elusive and he couldn't place it.

He knelt up behind the trembling, shaking figure and ran his hands over the cold flanks of the male in front of him, steadying him, feeling the internal heat pulsing outward toward him. The heavy scent of fear hung in the air around him, and all about, swirling madly in and through his aching head and body was the intoxicating scent of sweat...of arousal...of sex. He took a deep, full breath, pulling the heady mix of scents into his lungs, savoring the way it became flavor on his tongue when he opened his mouth. There was a small opening in front of him, pink and tight between pale white flesh; this was the source of the pulsating, throbbing heat he sensed. A way to relieve the pain and tension coursing through his body. He could bury himself in this heat, release his need deep inside it. Find the relief his body sought so desperately.

His hands grasped the pale flesh tighter, and without so much as a growl for warning he lined himself up with the tiny throbbing entrance and slammed himself deep inside, grunting as the dry tissues opened for him, tearing as they parted to allow him entrance.

Blair screamed loud and long as his partner drove into his tight, dry body. He shuddered, deep, bone-wrenching spasms wracking his body as Jim--no, not _Jim_, but the unknowing beast they'd unleashed--slammed into him over and over again. He could feel the tears running down his face, and raised one trembling, shaking hand to wipe at him. His breathing was harsh and irregular; his heart rate was off the scale. He'd never felt a pain so exquisitely intense before. It made the pain of yesterday's penetration seem mild in comparison. And there were the other sensations that went along with it: the tearing sensation, almost like a Band-Aid being pulled off, that he felt deep within himself, along with wet warmth tickling down the backs and insides of his thighs.

_I'm bleeding, _he thought dizzily, the blood rushing to his head. _I've torn badly enough to bleed. I wonder how bad? Chardis said he'd do it...that I'd be lying on the floor, bleeding...but Jim didn't do this to me. _He groaned again as Jim's cock withdrew, then screamed again when it slammed back in. _Stop it, Sandburg,_ he chastised himself. _You're only giving them what they want: to see you screaming and crying, just like they swore you would._ He bit down on hard on his lip with the next series of thrusts, then felt the blood oozing from that as well. His whole body ached, deep up inside of him where he hadn't realized he could ache. He moaned as Jim's cock seemed to swell larger and realized the bigger man was about ready to come. _That's it, Jim. You come, and let's get this over with. Oh, god, please...make it end SOON. Just get it over with, c'mon, Jim...just shoot inside of me. Finish it!_ Dimly he realized he could hear Jim's agonized cry as he released, shooting pulse after pulse of hot semen into his partner--the partner he didn't recognize.

When it was over, and if he was honest, Blair had to admit the whole thing from penetration to completion hadn't taken more than five minutes, though it had seemed like hours, Jim pushed him forward, collapsing on top of him with his nose buried in Blair's hair. He could feel himself shaking, felt the nausea growing in him as his mind began processing and dealing with the pain. Oh, god, he ached. No, it was worse than that. It was like...like nothing he'd ever experienced before. A burning that was so hot, so deep, so totally enveloping him it was still hard to catch his breath. He groaned, the groan turning to a low, piteous moan when Jim stirred finally and withdrew, bringing about another, fresher wave of pain. Blair managed to raise himself up just a little before throwing up on the stone floor in front of him.

He heard a low, rumbling growl, but didn't register it until a large warm hand stroked over his hair. He shuddered under the touch, then heard a quiet voice whispering brokenly, "Mine...oh god, mine...no..."

Then the warmth of Jim's body was gone, the pressing force that was allowing him to deal with this at all. He heard a loud, rumbling roar as his partner was pulled off of him and forced away from him. Blair didn't look up, could barely find the strength to keep his head away from where he'd thrown up, much less move it any further. The roars became more and more muted until he assumed that Jim was being led back to their cell...and he was alone in the cold, dark room, lying on the floor bleeding, just as _she'd_ said. He sighed, more of a groan than anything else, and lowered his head again, shifting just enough to rest an arm underneath his chin.

A noise behind him a few minutes later startled him out of the pain-filled doze he had started into, and he opened his eyes to find Chardis staring down at him mockingly, her eyes burning with icy black fire and an unholy gleam. She smiled.

"Well, well, Mr. Sandburg. Fancy finding you here, like this."

Terror rose up and claimed him as its companion, then blackness rose and overcame terror. The world spun drunkenly around him for just a moment, then he was no longer aware of anything around him.

* * *

He wasn't sure when he became aware of _himself_ again, aware that he was Jim Ellison, and not just _somebody_ lost in a hazy fog of dreams and half-formed images. He opened his eyes slowly, aware that he was lying curled on his side on the bed, but not remembering how he got there. He frowned then, because why would he have left? Where was his? Wait...his what? _Blair_. Where was Blair? His...friend, partner, lover, mate. _His._ He shuddered, pushing himself up into a sitting position on the bed, looking around warily. He could hear the steaming, hissing, rumbling sounds all around him, could feel the faint tremors under his feet. Where was Blair? They needed to get out of here, or figure a way to try. If they stayed here during seismic activity they'd end up dead for sure.

He sniffed, smelling Blair's scent on him, as well as a scent he didn't recognize, mingled with the scent of blood. Jim looked down, trying to find the source and shot straight up off the bed in horror as he realized that his penis was red with blood...and it didn't take a genius to figure out whose it was.

"Noooooo....no, no...oh, no, please..." he collapsed in on himself, falling to the floor on his knees, his eyes now squeezed shut to keep that image out. Except it didn't work. Now he was filled with the image of blood to mix with the other wavy, distorted images--ones he'd managed to convince himself were nothing more than hallucinations. "Noooo!!" he moaned again, his fingers scrubbing at himself, trying to get the blood off. He picked himself up on shaky legs and headed into the bathroom, there to scrub himself roughly over and over, until his cock was sore and aching both from earlier and from his actions now.

He stumbled back to the bed and sat down, staring dumbly at the flesh between his legs, wondering for a second if cutting it off would make any difference. _No, not now. You've gone and done what you swore you wouldn't do. You raped him. Your partner...your best friend...the man you love. You're worse than these scum, Ellison, because you swore you'd never do it!_ "Oh, god...Blair..."

A low, muted rumbling jerked his attention away for a minute and he saw the panther sitting across from him, staring at him. _We'll avenge him...we'll avenge us,_ the huge animal seemed to say, staring at him with those bottomless eyes that shifted from ebony to smoky-blue and back again. _She won't leave here, ever...you won't leave here until she's paid the price. Vengeance, Sentinel. Your honor, his honor have been compromised; the price she must pay is a blood one, with her life._

Jim nodded, meeting the unwavering eyes with his own. He stood up, his legs still shaking. "Yes," he said firmly, then arched his back as the panther leapt toward him.

* * *

It was only a few short minutes later that Blair was returned to him. Pale, barely conscious, not moving under his own power. Jim glared at the woman who carried him in and dumped him on the bed, shifting restlessly as the power of the panther surged through him. Yvelle came forward then to set food from her tray to the table. At her first movement toward his obviously injured partner, Jim growled low, a warning rumble. He wasn't sure what the bitch saw in his eyes, but she back away from him, an odd look on her face.

"You will only make it worse on yourself in the long run," she told him, an oddly subdued tone to her voice.

"It can't get any fucking worse than it is," he snarled back. "You...animals act with a higher code of honor than what you do." He took another step toward her and she turned and walked from the room. The door was locked again.

A low groan from the bed sent him whirling back around and he gasped in horror as he got his first _good_ look at Blair. Several bruises were forming on his sides and arms where he'd been held or forcibly restrained; his face was pale, the cut or bitten lip standing out red and swollen in the paleness. And lower...Jim shuddered when he took in the dried blood streaking down Sandburg's legs...and startled again when he realized there was fresh blood there as well.

"Fuck! Blair? Blair, baby, can you hear me?" He moved over to the bed cautiously, not wanting to scare his partner by appearing suddenly. To his surprise Blair shifted a little and a hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

"Jim--oh, god, Jim...Jesus..." tears started then, flowing down pale cheeks, washing out some of the color in the vivid blue of his eyes.

"I--" his throat choked up then, unable to continue. The hand holding his wrist pulled slightly against him, the barest of counter-pressures and he looked up to see wet eyes staring at him.

"Please...hold me," a hoarse voice whispered. Jim shuddered and shook his head. Blair tightened his weak grasp on his partner's wrist. "Jim...please. I know _you_ didn't do this. I need you to know that too. I need you to hold me, need to feel your strength. Please."

He was shaking and his legs didn't want to hold him up any longer. With a low moan of pain and despair he sank to his knees, landing beside the bed. He carefully shifted Blair and gathered him into his arms, cradling him close, burying his face into the younger man's chest, nuzzling at the silky hair and warmth he found there.

"Hurt you...so bad...so hurt..."

Blair nearly groaned again at the pain in that husky voice. He shook a little bit; he was so cold, so tired, and he hurt so bad. "Shhh...we can worry about that later. Jim, I need help, man. I--I'm still bleeding..." _I might not be if the bitches hadn't seen to that one little detail._ He shuddered with remembering, then pushed those thoughts aside. They served no purpose here, now. "Jim." He spoke gently into the older man's ear. "Jim, do you hear me? I need you, babe. Need your help." His partner raised his head and Blair nearly gasped at the pain in those eyes. He also saw a flicker of something wild, untamed, but not to be feared. Not for him, anyway. _Go easy, Sandburg...he's still not clear of the drugs yet._ He stroked the light brown hair, his fingers gliding over the short hair. "Will you help me, Jim?" he crooned gently.

Jim pulled back enough to look at Blair's face, to look in his eyes. Although cloudy with pain, he saw nothing resembling fear, hate, mistrust or condemnation. Nothing but love, caring and understanding. "How?" he asked raggedly, his breath catching in his throat. "How can you look at me...like that?"

"L-like what?" He shook a little harder, his system starting to react to what he'd been through.

"Like you still...love me." The last words were whispered, the sound harsh in the stillness of their tiny room.

"Listen to me, Jim." Warm fingers grasped his chin roughly, pushed his face upward. "I _do_ love you. Nothing that has happened here has changed that. You weren't _you_ when they forced you to do...this." Blair gestured to himself. "You had no control, man. None. They made y-you do this..." his teeth were chattering lightly now, and the younger man shook his head. "H-help me, p-please. I n-need to b-be covered up."

Jim nodded, still looking in Blair's eyes. He loosed the younger man, then got up and moved around gathering a cloth to wipe his friend off with, as well as his clothes. "I should dress too," he said at one point, after pulling Blair's sweater over his head.

The grad student nodded. "Yeah, man. 'Cause something big is gonna happen. I can feel it."

"Yes. I can, too. I can hear it as well. The earth is uneasy right now--restless. It keeps trembling." Jim's eyes had a faraway look and Blair wasn't sure if his friend was actually sensing something, or still tripping out on the drugs in his system. He shivered again, the fine tremors running through him almost constantly now.

"Jeans, Jim. Help me get my jeans on. Then you get dressed." There was a sense of urgency growing within him, and Blair wondered about it. It wasn't like _he_ had any heightened senses, and he'd never had anything resembling psychic abilities before, but _something_ was going to happen. Was happening. He nearly cried aloud when a large rumble moved through their room, followed by a tremor that rocked the bed and rattled the dishes on the table. "Hurry, Jim!"

Ellison fumbled with Blair's jeans, then closed his eyes and ears and pulled them up the younger man, hearing the stifled gasps and moans as his partner's injured body reacted to the motion. He'd looked briefly when he cleaned him up, but his mind wasn't clear enough to focus on what he was seeing, other than to recognize that fairly extensive damage had occurred. And Blair was still bleeding, a slow ooze that wouldn't stop. The tremor under his feet shocked him and his eyes flew open to meet Blair's. "I--you felt that, too."

Sandburg nodded. "Hurry! We have to get out of here somehow." He shifted awkwardly, trying to roll off the bed. _Shit. We need shoes too_. Jim was pulling his own clothes on now, his fingers rough and uncertain. Blair shook his head. "Never mind with buttons, Jim. Where're our shoes at?"

The older man looked around wildly, his body beginning to respond to the primal urges within it, knowing that the moment for vengeance was coming. He spotted them under the table and grabbed them out, jamming Blair's onto his feet at the same time he pushed his own on. Laces weren't important right now. Being ready was. The floor shook again, and a chunk of rock dropped from the ceiling.

There was a hissing, popping noise, and another rumble, and a long split appeared in the ceiling above them, racing madly across it. Jim grabbed the blanket from the bed and pulled it over their heads. "Soon..." he muttered. "Very soon."

Another muted roar as the earth protested whatever had awakened it, and the door to their cell popped open with a tortured clang of metal joints against metal.

"You'll have to carry me out of here," Blair began, not sure even how they would do that. He hadn't gotten any further when Jim scooped him up and dumped him unceremoniously over his shoulder in the traditional fireman's carry. He grabbed hold of Jim's shirt to anchor himself, then closed his eyes. Any movement hurt like hell, and he had a feeling this was going to be a bumpy ride. "Let's go, man," he whispered. He wasn't surprised when Jim started for the door; what did surprise him was that the older man paused then, right outside the threshold, sniffing into the hallway, turning his head this way and that. "Jim? What're you doing, man?"

There was no answer, nor had he really expected one. The older man sniffed again, then turned and began walking--almost running--down the long corridor.

* * *

The panther loped along the corridor, all senses open wide and receptive. He paused occasionally to sniff, and search, to make sure he was on the right path. So far, so good. The earth trembled around him, and the weight on his back was jarring, but he persisted. Too much depended on this for him not to. At a juncture where several of the tunnel-like corridors met he paused again, raising his head into the air, sniffing wildly. He strained, his brain focusing on the many scents in the air around him, then heard a growl in his chest to match the one that shook the floor beneath his feet as he found it. _Her_ scent. The heavy scent of darkness, of malevolence...of pure _evil_. He shifted the warmth hanging against his back and heard a muffled moan, then a whispered, "Jim", but could not respond. His every fiber was focused on the retribution at hand, and nothing--_nothing_\--was going to deter him. He moved on again.

The trail led him into the stone chamber where he'd committed the most heinous of all acts--that of violence against his mate, against the one he loved. How fitting that the evil that had brought this to be should end its life here. He growled again, not so low this time, issuing a challenge. The evil looked up at him, a feral baring of teeth moving across its face. He swung the warm weight of his mate off his back and settled him on the floor near the door, moving forward with determination. More evil appeared on the dais, right behind the one he was focused on. Good...two at once. He felt his own mouth open, curve, baring teeth and fangs, white gleaming in the darkness.

A low voice purred at him, but he didn't hear it any more than he'd heard his mate. His mind was totally focused. The tremors under his feet continued to rock the chamber and chunks of stone and rock were dropping everywhere. Time to finish this and leave before they couldn't leave at all.

He heard the whispered inhalation of breaths; one from behind him, two from in front of him. He reached out, hands shifting within his vision. Was he man, or was he beast? A low growl came from him again and his hands closed around a slender neck, twisting viscously, glorying in the sharp snapping noise that reverberated through him and swirled around him. He could see in her eyes that she saw the essence of _him_, and grinned again--the panther baring his fangs as it leapt for her.

The other evil had approached as he did, bent on protecting its own as well. He grinned again. Nothing was going to keep him from his moment here. The panther surged strong within him, pushing him forward. He leapt toward the other one, the large form struggling against him where the purely evil one hadn't at all. He grasped this neck as well, feeling the bones grinding beneath the sensitive pads of his fingers as he tightened his grip, pushing harder, seeking to crush that which allowed life. A low moan caught his attention and he turned, seeing his mate shifting, crying, face caught in a rictus of mingled gladness and horror. He squeezed harder and the body in his hands squirmed frantically as the air was cut off. A vicious twist and the life was gone. He let the body fall to the floor, panting heavily, then turned, feeling the primal part of him surging again. Time to get out of here. He scooped his mate up and settled him again, then began the torturous journey down the collapsing tunnels toward freedom.

 

Continue in Part Six 


	6. Darkness Overcome

  
Chapter 16

He delivered me from my strong enemy,  
From those who hated me;  
For they were too mighty for me.  
\--_2 Samuel 22:18_

 

It was late afternoon; that was all he was certain of. Telling time based on the position of the sun in the sky had never been Blair's strongest suit, and it wasn't improved now by adding pain, exhaustion, hunger and fear.

Jim hadn't set him down since he'd picked him back up in the ritual chamber. A shudder passed through the younger man again as he recalled those moments-- immortalized forever in his brain--the vision of Jim, enhanced by the wildly flickering firelight and the tremoring of the earth, as he--. _Was it really Jim? I would swear on my life and a stack of bibles that I saw something else up there. Do spirit guides come to visit retribution against those who have done true harm, true evil, to someone? Or a couple of someones?_ His thoughts were pushed over to his partner, who was still stumbling along resolutely, picking his way along the road.

Jim wasn't very talkative under the best of circumstances; over the last couple of years Blair had grown used to the natural reticence, and learned how to get around it. But his friend was...eerily silent right now. _He knows he was the one who took me. Or at least he thinks he knows. I wonder what's going on inside that head of his? And what'll it take to reach him?_

He had no idea where they were in relation to Cascade, nor how far from the city. Aside from a few steaming fissures in the ground right around where they'd exited the underground caverns, there was no sign here of any seismic activity. He shifted fitfully on Jim's shoulder, groaning a little when the movement further jarred him. Jim slowed, then stopped.

"You okay?" was the quiet question as the bigger man slid him off his shoulder to stand before him.

"I don't--I don't know, Jim." It was an honest answer. He didn't know. "I'm still...I can feel more blood...but it's not like a hemorrhage, it's just like before. A slow ooze." He closed his eyes and tilted his face upward. After a week and a half underground, away from anything but pale artificial light, the warmth felt good on his face.

Jim nodded and gently turned Blair around. He hadn't bled through his jeans yet, so maybe it wasn't that bad--yet. He had no doubt that the longer it took them to find a phone and some help, the better the potential for it to become a real problem. He held Blair there, facing away from him, as his eyes filled again with tears. _What kind of monster am I? That I could do this...do this to him, especially**.**_ He bent and nosed the tousled, filthy curls, breathing in the scent of Blair that was lying beneath all the other odors. The pure, fresh, spicy scent that could calm and soothe him. _I love you,_ he thought desperately. _I have no right anymore; I gave that up the minute I took you by force. But god help me, I still do. I'd give my life to undo what's been done...to make everything better for you. God, Blair...help me! I need you, need your strength for this. I need you, Blair. Will always need you._ He shuddered, and gripped Blair's shoulders a little tighter. A slender hand reached up to cover his own.

"It's okay, big guy. Relax." He squeezed Jim's hand, trying not to wince as the large fingers gripped him tighter. "C'mon, Jim. Let's go find a phone." He waited until Jim had shifted him back up over his shoulder, then whispered, "I love you."

After a long, tense moment Jim's voice, ragged and strained, floated back to him. "Love you, too."

* * *

They found the truck stop shortly after dark. Jim set Blair onto his feet, but supported him with an arm around his waist, helping the younger man walk.

"Do you want to call, or should I?" Blair whispered, ignoring the looks of the truckers around them. He knew what sort of a picture they presented but could have cared less. He was drifting in and out of shock and Jim was barely hanging on now, his strength having been pushed to its limits. Both of them were filthy, hungry and tired, and they smelled, and never mind the injuries. From where the shirt had stuck to his stomach, Blair could see small oozes of blood where the cuts on Jim's abdomen must have opened with all the additional lifting and carrying he'd had to do.

His partner stared at him blankly, eyes foggy and a little unfocused. He stood so that his body was between Blair and everything else, still in protector mode although it was clear from the expression on his face that he felt he'd forfeited that right. "You," he whispered. "I don't...you should."

"Right." Blair reached his hand out and patted Jim's shoulder, then turned and picked up the phone. He dialed the number for Simon's private line and was relieved when Rhonda's voice came on the other end; was more relieved when she accepted the collect charges and patched him through immediately to Simon.

"Banks!"

His knees wobbled then, and he smiled gratefully at Jim when the older man grabbed at him held him steady. "Simon? It's...it's Blair, man."

* * *

He'd never seen such a welcome sight as the cop cars and ambulance that pulled up outside the truck stop.

"Simon!" Blair waved the big man over to where he and Jim were resting, waiting. "Man, is it good to see you."

"Sandburg! Ellison! Christ have we been worried about you." Simon chomped down on his cigar and shook his head. "Where the hell have the two of you been, and what have you been doing?"

Blair felt a wave of weariness move over him as he realized that truly, this ordeal was nearly over. "It's a long, long story, Simon, and Jim and I both need medical attention." He was aware of the blood that was now dripping steadily down his legs and felt a sudden rush of dizziness. "Um, I don't know what's left of it, but the cavern we were being held in is about ten miles north-east of here. Just into the hills." He glanced over at Jim, but his partner seemed nearly zoned-out. "There was an earthquake. Or something. How far are we from Cascade?"

Simon's eyes had grown wide as he got a good look at his detective and his partner. "We're about 30 miles outside of Cascade, Sandburg. Is that where you've been all this time?"

The younger man nodded. "For the last ten days. Yeah." He shifted uneasily, from where he'd been lying on his side with his head on Jim's leg. "Can you help me up, man? Jim's pretty wiped out."

"Sure." Banks stretched a hand out to the younger man and started to pull him up, but Blair raised a hand.

"Slow, Captain. I can't move very fast...unnhhhh..." the groan escaped his lips before he could stop it and he hunched in on himself. "Shit..." he whispered.

Banks gave him a concerned look, but before he could move or speak Jim had stood up and carefully, tenderly lifted Sandburg into his arms. "I got you," he whispered very quietly into Blair's ear. "You're mine." He shot his captain a 'follow me' look, then carried his partner to the waiting ambulance.

"Captain...Blair's right. We both need medical attention. Now." He set his partner carefully on his stomach on a gurney, then climbed inside, ignoring the startled EMTs. "He's bleeding, possibly internally," he continued in a quiet voice, watching Blair as the techs scrambled to get the gurney loaded. "Sir, I'll debrief and give you a full report at the hospital, after Blair's been taken care of."

"You, too," Blair whispered, watching the older man with foggy eyes. "You need help, too."

Both men watched as a clearly bewildered Simon shook his head. "Fine. I'll send Rafe and Brown to head up the clean-up down the road, and meet you at Cascade General in a little bit."

"Very good, Sir."

Blair watched the captain, seeing the confusion on the older man's face. "I'll explain it all to you, Simon, when you meet us." He closed his eyes as one of the techs jostled him by accident, a small groan escaping from his lips. "Believe me, it's a story you don't want to miss."

* * *

Blair and Jim were both being examined by the on-call doctor in the ER when Simon arrived. Jim was settled in a corner, his eyes trained on his younger friend, while the doctor and assisting nurse slowly cut away the jeans that had by now begun to stick from the drying blood. The police captain observed his man, and the man who'd trailed after him as an observer for nearly two years now. Both looked very much worse for wear; Sandburg in particular looked pale and shocky.

Jim watched his captain enter the small treatment room. He'd refused to be separated from Blair at this point, no matter that he felt he had no right to be there. They'd only just been admitted to triage, were just starting to get the help they needed. He was very concerned for his partner, who was starting to look very pale, his eyes going unfocused every so often. He'd dropped out of consciousness twice during the ride to the hospital, each time coming around only with a great deal of effort. His eyes met Simon's and he frowned when he realized what he needed to do to rectify things--at least a little. He'd never be able to undo the damage done--and if anything happened to Blair because of what he'd done to him, he _knew_ he'd never be able to live with himself--but maybe he could try to make amends.

"Mr. Sandburg?" Doctor Edwins was talking gently to his partner, while the nurse finished cutting away his jeans. "Mr. Sandburg, I need you to tell me what manner of injury you've received."

_For the love of Christ_. "He was raped, Doctor." Jim's quiet comment clearly surprised everyone in the room; he felt Simon's eyes on him, hot and curious. He looked down to see Blair staring at him, tears in his eyes, shaking his head 'no'. He nodded, then looked up at Simon. "Sir--I...I need you to take me into custody."

"WHAT?!" If the situation hadn't been so serious, Jim might have laughed at the expression on his captain's--his friend's--face.

"You heard me, Sir." The quiet voice dropped to a whisper, and Jim could hear Blair's startled intake of breath ringing out like a shot in the silent room. "I--"

"No, Jim." The voice was weak, filled with pain and exhaustion, but clearly carrying a note of authority. Jim looked over to meet Blair's eyes again.

"Yes, Chief."

"_No_, Jim." Sandburg struggled for a moment to lift his upper body off the table, then turned to face Simon fully. "We need to talk, man--privately. Now." His voice was hot and urgent and Banks had no problems believing him. He nodded and turned to the doctor.

"If you could give us a few minutes, Doctor?"

"These men need medical care!" the physician sputtered for a moment, then backed down in the heat of Simon's glare. "Fine--but your man here is slowly bleeding out, from the looks of things. Don't take too long." He gestured to the nurse and they exited the small room, closing the door behind them.

Simon turned to Blair, then flicked his gaze back at Jim who was sitting on the chair, his arms now wrapped around himself, rocking silently back and forth. "Sandburg?" he called softly, "tell me what's going on here."

Blair took a deep breath, wincing as his body throbbed in time with his heart. "We've been captives of the same cult that had been doing all the murders in Cascade," he whispered hoarsely, meeting Simon's eyes. "The pairs of bodies that kept turning up." He waited for Simon's nod before continuing, his eyes flicking over to watch Jim. "The woman in charge wanted a baby, Simon. She was willing to go to any lengths to get that baby--including forcing men...um..."

"You two were forced to have sex with her? Impregnate her?" Bank's voice was low, concerned, but not alarmed.

"Not...exactly." A movement from in front of him alerted Blair, and the younger man stretched a hand out to his partner, calling in a soft, quiet voice. "C'mon, man...come on over here."

Jim shook his head, rocking faster. "No," he hissed quietly. "It's my fault--leave me alone."

Simon turned confused eyes to Blair. "What's going on? What 'exactly' happened, Sandburg?"

Blair sighed deeply, his heart aching for Jim, for himself, for both of them. What did they have right now? Not even the friendship they'd had before. Right now, all aspects of their relationship--as friends, as partners, as lovers--were vulnerable. He shivered. "They... pumped him full of drugs, Simon. The same shit we kept finding in the victims' bodies. Hallucinogens and psychotropics intended to unleash whatever primitive being is inside all of us. They...we..." Sandburg dropped his eyes, his face blushing crimson. "They made us have sex... _together_, Simon," he continued in a rough whisper, "and they pushed Jim as much as they could to make him make it rough... They wanted him to... to... rape me, but he wouldn't. He didn't."

"Yes, I did GODDAMMIT!!!" The animal fury that was Jim Ellison surged from the chair, his eyes snapping pale-blue fire. "You can't deny it, Sandburg! I raped you! I hurt you! You are...were..._mine_...and now you're not--" He stumbled from the chair and dropped to his knees in front of Blair, body shaking, eyes tearing. "You can't say I didn't hurt you," he mumbled in a plaintive voice. "I know I did. I can hear the pain whispering through your body."

Simon Banks whipped his head from Blair to Jim and back again, trying to gauge what really had happened. The information he was being given was far, far more than he'd wanted--both personally and professionally. But these men were his friends and he was going to do right by them, no matter what it took.

"...it hurt, babe," Blair was whispering, "but _you_ didn't hurt me. You'd never hurt me, Jim. I know that. _You_ should know that."

_Babe? What all went on besides the sex?_ Simon shook his head. "Sandburg." His voice was low and quiet, and he noticed that the younger man wasn't listening to him. He was focused on calming down Ellison.

Jim was pulling himself into a small protective ball, crouched on the floor in front of the examination table. He was shaking his head back and forth, slowly, mindlessly, his body surprisingly lax.

"Simon," Blair whispered. "Jim did _not_ rape me. He was drugged repeatedly, and tortured. His body and mind were manipulated and pushed into doing what was demanded, because his ability to resist was worn away completely. He was not in his right mind when any of this happened, and _I_ don't hold him responsible in any way." He paused. "Neither should you. _He's_ got enough guilt tripping around inside to make a therapist's career, but that's something else altogether." The grad student shifted awkwardly on the table. "He needs help, Simon. Bad. He's border-line OD, if not there already. He's been starved, tortured, wounded. _Help_ him, please." The hoarse, low voice dropped to a pleading whisper. "And for god's sake, don't believe anything he's telling you right now--it's so colored by the drugs in him that he _can't_ distinguish what he was forced to do, from reality."

Banks stared at the younger man before him. Dark blue eyes wide and earnest, begging him. Obviously injured himself, needing help just as badly--but with a clear, coherent gaze staring back at him. His eyes dropped to the man crouching and rocking on the floor, despair, confusion and self-hatred radiating from every pore.

"What can I do?" he asked softly.

"Get the doctor back in here--Jim needs medical attention now. And have the ME fax over a copy of the autopsy reports, so the doctors here will know what sort of shit they're dealing with, in Jim's system." Blair gave an embarrassed half-smile. "Sorry, man. Don't mean to be ordering you around--"

"Forget it, Sandburg," Banks responded gruffly. He turned to the door and poked his head through, calling for the doctor.

* * *

Jim sat on the floor, listening to the voices swirling around over him, trying desperately not to be dragged back down into that muddled version of hell that had been forced on him. It was dark, and murky there. Lonely. He was cut off from even his own thoughts, unable to go back, go forward, do anything. A low, deep rumbling washed over him, then a lighter, not-quite so deep voice; a soothing voice that even the most primitive part of him would answer to. _His._ Calling to him, pleading with him.

He shook his head, trying to get that voice to leave him alone. He wanted to be left in peace. If he was going to drown in the murk, he didn't want to take anyone else down with him. He curled back in on himself. Why couldn't they see? Why couldn't anyone understand that he'd hurt _His_, hurt him badly in a way that he shouldn't have been hurt. What would it take to make them see that?

Other voices joined the fray around him; different tones and pulses mixing and adding to the discordant resonance building and moving around him. He winced and tried to fold further in on himself, to shut the noises out. From somewhere far away, very distanced from him, he could hear a quiet voice calling, "Mr. Ellison? Detective? Can you hear me?"

Another voice now, _His_ calling. "Jim?...C'mon, man, answer the doctor! Answer _me_, dammit!"

The words held no particular meaning for him. He didn't recognize them as pertaining to himself. A low, muted growl rose from his lips and he surged upward, face frenzied as he tried to strike out, to quiet the noises around him. He had one look at _His_, at the anguish on his face, before everything around him spun dizzily and he fell toward the floor, crying weakly, "No! Nonononononononononononono...."

Simon caught him as he fell, his body twisting spasmodically, his lips moving, although no sounds were coming out now.

* * *

Blair watched in horror as the doctor instructed a sedative injected into Jim.

"No," he whispered, struggling against the hands holding him down, "he's drug-sensitive...very drug sensitive--"

"He needs to be calmed down before we can do anything for him," Doctor Edwins said, laying a gentling hand on Blair's shoulder. "We're going to do our best to _help_ him, Mr. Sandburg. Not hurt him further."

The grad student shook his head, his eyes blurry with tears. He barely felt the IV line being inserted into his arm; didn't notice that his clothes had been totally removed and a hospital gown had been draped over him. "Please...help him. Listen to me...he's _really_ drug sensitive."

"I believe you," Dr. Edwins said, moving around to inspect his other patient. He checked pupillary response and pulse. "We need to get Detective Ellison admitted right now," he said gruffly to the nurse attending. "And inform Dr. Barit that we need a consult from psych."

"Psych? The _psych_ ward? What the hell are you consulting to them for?" Blair pushed at the blanket covering himself, trying to sit up. He hissed angrily when a nurse laid a hand on his arm.

"You said yourself that he's been dosed with large amounts of hallucinogens. That falls out of the realm of just the medical team and into the psychiatric venue."

"Jim's _NOT_ crazy!"

"No, he isn't...but he _is_ exhibiting some symptoms of extreme mental distress and psychotic behavior, Mr. Sandburg. And we'll take all the steps and precautions necessary to get him de-toxed and back on his feet, but Dr. Barit's team will assign the physician of record for this."

"Don't you hurt him! Simon--don't let them do anything to him, okay? Please, man!" Blair sank back down on the exam table, tears welling in his eyes. His body ached and throbbed, and the effort to keep from giving in to that was draining all of his reserves. He could feel himself shaking. "Help us," he whispered, his eyes closing.

"Mr. Sandburg, we need you to sign...Mr. Sandburg, wake up. C'mon, that's it." The voice was gruff, but gentle, and Blair opened his eyes to see the doctor standing next to him, concern coloring the deep brown gazing at him.

"Huh."

"Mr. Sandburg, I need to discuss _your_ treatment. You're torn pretty badly. It's not life threatening, and we could pack your anal passage and keep you on a liquid and intravenous diet until you heal...but I feel that your needs would be better served by surgery. Repair the damage done, and you'll heal a lot faster."

"How long?" _Why can't I make anything focus completely all of a sudden?_ The thought was a disturbing one, and Blair squinted, trying to bring the doctor into focus. He heard shuffling and noises from behind him and knew that Jim was being shifted onto a gurney, that they were going to move him to a room. He rolled onto his side and grabbed at Jim's hand as the gurney was wheeled past him. In a voice too low for anyone else in the room to hear he whispered, "I'll see you in a little while, Jim. I love you."

The only sign that Jim had heard him was his jaw twitched a little bit. His whole body looked slack, but still tense, at the same time. Blair looked up at the doctor, catching Simon with his eyes as well.

"Same room...please. We need to be together." The gurney was wheeled out and Blair shuddered.

"You'll be in the same room, Blair," Simon stood against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. "I'll make_ sure_ of it."

The doctor spared him a glance, then nodded, returning his attention to his fading patient. "How long for what, Mr. Sandburg?"

"How long...'til I'm healed?"

"Well...there'll be several different comfort levels. On a general level, you should be fairly pain free within a week's time. Bowel movements will be uncomfortable for a while... Anal intercourse is out of the question for at least a month--possibly longer, depending on fast you heal."

Blair grimaced. _As if Jim's gonna touch me at all!_ "Give me the paperwork to sign," he sighed. "Let's get this show started."

The doctor nodded and instructed his nurse to bring in the necessary paperwork. Blair shifted back onto his stomach and signed the papers when they were given to him; answered the necessary and tiresome questions about drug allergies, sensitivities, past surgeries, reactions to anesthesia. He was still shivering when the anesthesiologist came in to help prep him for surgery.

Blair grabbed at Simon as they prepared to wheel him out. "Make sure," he hissed drowsily. "We have to be in the same room, Simon. I have to watch over him!"

The big man squeezed the smaller man's hand and nodded. "I'll go down and take care of the paperwork myself, Sandburg. _You_ concentrate on getting better."

* * *

_There were strange noises and bright, bright light swirling all around him. His head hurt. His body ached. His soul felt as if it'd been ripped from his body, the two being forced to separate. His soul...did he have a soul? Yes. His soul was Blair--and he'd ripped him away from him with that single act of violence._

_A low moan rose around him, and on some level he recognized it as coming from him, but maybe it was coming from the figure he saw standing in front of him...small, smelling of His, battered and bloodied. Almost as if a panther had been at him. But wasn't he the panther? A glance down at his hands, and they morphed into paws, claws extended, bloody and dark. The claws morphed again into blood-red fingernails, hands outstretched, hands attached to a slender form with long, flowing black hair and eyes as cold as the fires of hell were hot. Chardis moved toward him, toward His, and he put himself in between, trying to protect the battered body. He raised his hands, intending to push her away, and they morphed again into bloody claws. He sank the claws into her face, ripping and shredding, satisfaction surging and peaking, then fading as pain slammed into him and he realized it had been a mirror--he was looking in a mirror, and it was his own face, and now he was screaming, the image changing from himself to the panther to His and back again, and he couldn't stop it, couldn'tstopcouldn'tstop..._

"Blair--nononono, ohgod, so sorry, I didn't mean it, it was the panther--the panther is here, Blair run, don't let him get you, go away, go far away, hurry, don't let me hurt you again, him, don't let him, me...ohnononononononononononono!!!!!" His body arched, fingers clawing at himself as the vivid pictures in his mind became indistinguishable from reality, and he watched in horror as Blair--as _His_\--was hurt, over and over, by himself, by demons, by the panther. He screamed, kicking at the sheets covering himself.

"Oh, God, he's ripping at his face!" The older nurse quickly compressed the call button and snapped for the doctor, then gestured for the younger one. "Come on, help me hold his arms down before he really hurts himself! Dr. Lewis will be here in a minute."

_There were more noises, more lights now, and blood, red and hot, dripping down his face. He could see it spattered on the floor...a bright pattern, calling to him. The dots coalesced into a wave of heat blasting up at him as something hard and sharp bit into his arm. He arched away, screaming, his mind and body going on full alert, trying to process why he'd been drugged again._

_"NOOOOO! I said I'd cooperate! Don't give me anymore! I'll do it...I have done it! Don't give me anymore! I can't hurt him...won't you just let me do it the way I think it needs to be done? Please..."_

_Harsh, loud voices spiraled around him, the words moving in and out of his understanding. He shuddered when hot hands touched him, seeing Chardis' leering face staring down at him._

_"We're restraining you, Detective, until you're calmer. You've been give medication to help you. Detective--do you hear me? Detective?" The evil bitch shook her head at him, her smile growing wider, teeth dripping the blood she'd feasted on before the mass. "That's it, Detective. Relax...it won't hurt, and it's just until you're calmer."_

_"Liar! You fucking lying bitch! You're just trying to trick me! You just want me to rape him again, don't you? You don't give a fucking rats' ass about me or how I feel! I KNOW it! You can't fool the panther! He sees...I see... Ohhh, God!" His head thrashed against pillow as the restraints were buckled on him, holding him in place. A knife loomed over him and he flinched, expecting to be cut again. The sharp blade entered his body, invading him so privately, so intimately. He could feel it sliding, cool and slick, past his organs, through his innards, touching each part of him. Rape by knife...this was his punishment. He shuddered, the pain there and not there, burning through him, his whole body shaking now, and he cried out, voice hoarse from pain and screaming._

Dr. Sidney Lewis watched his patient writhing and screaming and moaning, pulling against the restraints. He shook his head and wrote in the chart, speaking at the same time to the nurse standing next to him.

"Four more milligrams, IM, in six hours, if he isn't calm enough to take the meds by mouth."

"Yes, Doctor."

"I want to be notified immediately if there's any change--_any_ change. Good, bad, whatever. Do you understand?"

"I'll make sure you're contacted, Doctor."

Dr. Lewis shook his head and walked toward the door. "This guy is supposed to be a cop?"

"That's what they told me, Doctor Lewis."

"Great--I'm sure I'll sleep so much better at night, knowing folks like _this_ are out walking around on the street." Lewis and the nurse stepped through the door, leaving Jim to writhe futilely against the bed, groaning hoarsely.

"Blair... Blaaaaaair--help me...please, help..."

* * *

Blair knew as soon as he opened his eyes that something wasn't right. He could hear Jim's labored breathing nearby, and frowned as he tried to clear his mind of the effects of the anesthesia. Small groans and soft grunts echoed through the otherwise quiet room. He shook his head again, very minutely, but the foggy haze was still too present in his body. With a quiet groan of defeat, the injured student let his eyes close again as he drifted into a healing sleep.

In the bed beside him, the sentinel scented his partner..._His_...and calmed fractionally, not pulling so viciously on the restraints binding him to the bed.

* * *

_It was dark this time, with the lights gone, the noise minimal. Almost sensory deprivation, in some ways. He shuddered and looked around, not sure why he couldn't see better. He had special eyesight, although he couldn't remember much about it right now. Someone told him what it was, once. Someone... _His_. Blair. But he'd hurt Blair, so Blair wouldn't be able to tell him anymore. He watched soundlessly, his eyes wide in horror, as a smaller man appeared, blood running down his legs, a finger pointing accusingly at him._

_"You!" the apparition growled, piercing him with a knife-edged stare._

_"I didn't mean to...please believe me..." he could feel the words hot on his lips, caught between a lie and a plea. He hadn't meant to, but he'd needed it. He could feel the heat of that release pumping through him now and he shuddered. He moaned in terror then as the small figure in front of him changed, becoming taller, more slender--feminine. It was the devil in female form, Chardis, coming back to get him!_

_He writhed and wiggled, but found himself spread out, prone, bound and helpless. A large knife gleamed in her hand as she stood over him, her face changing and moving from Chardis to the panther to Blair and back again. His throat worked in a long, silent scream as she leaned closer, stroking the flat edge of the knife up and down his fully erect, weeping cock. Long, low moans tore from his throat then, when the image became Blair standing over him, pumping him slowly._

_"Please...I love you. Don't let me hurt you...don't do this."_

_A quiet kiss to his lips and then Blair was climbing up, straddling him, pulling at him. "Not going to hurt you...relax and don't fight me, Jim...C'mon, big guy, give in..."_

* * *

This time the moans from the man in the bed next to him were enough to push him from the drug-induced, healing sleep he'd been in. Blair looked around, still a little groggy, not surprised to see that there was very little light coming in from around the shades in the windows. A dim light gleamed coldly above his bed, providing minimal illumination in the small room. A faint scream from somewhere down the hall surprised him into full wakefulness and his body throbbed unpleasantly as he shifted to his side, searching for his partner.

"Jim?" His eyes were drawn to the straining, writhing figure, and he stared in horror as the image took a minute to fully form in his brain. "Jim--my god, what're they doing...?" He breathed the words, taking in the heaving chest, the sweat that was pouring down the sides of Jim's face, running in small, damp rivulets across his body.

Jim gasped and moaned, "I didn't mean to...please believe me," twisting within his bonds. Blair eyed them distastefully, his eyes widening in shock when he realized that they were dark and slick--sweat most likely, but probably blood too.

His body shuddered in pain when he shifted unsteadily toward the edge of the bed. The doctor had suggested limited movement for the first day or so after the surgery, to give him time to begin healing. That wasn't an option now. _What the fuck is up with this--restraints? And is this a flashback from the drugs, or has he been dosed with something else, even after I told them he's drug sensitive? _His body--his legs--shook as he stood very slowly and unsteadily on the floor, his toes curling from the cool of the tile beneath them. He gathered the IV tubing into one hand, and grasped the pole for support. One step, then another, then a third, each one agonizing as the jarring motion of footsteps reverberated through him.

He shook harder when he realized that Jim's wrists were scraped raw; some of the dark dampness on the cords binding him to the bed rails was indeed blood. _Man, somebody fucked up big time...and I'm gonna make sure they know about it. And where the hell is Simon? He was gonna look out for Jim for me... Oh, man. Jim, I'm so sorry, babe. I'll get you out of here...out of these. I'll fix it, partner. Don't worry, I'll take care of you and make it better._ He realized that his bottom lip was throbbing harshly and relaxed himself, shuddering when he tasted blood in his mouth from where he'd bitten hard again. He took a deep, deep breath and then blew it out, bracing himself for the bolt of pain that he knew would shoot through him when he climbed up onto the bed.

"Please...I love you. Don't let me hurt you...don't do this." Jim's voice was hoarse, harsh, probably from screaming and moaning for hours. Blair shook harder, his fingers barely able to navigate the closures on the restraints, Jim's straining and wiggling not helping any.

He leaned and gently kissed his partner...his lover, straddling the well-muscled chest to better reach the restraints. His body screamed in agony, stretching in ways it shouldn't have stretched yet. He ignored it. "Not going to hurt you...relax and don't fight me, Jim...C'mon, big guy, give in..." Another shudder as Jim began a high-pitched, keening wail, pulling so strongly against the arm restraints that Blair lost his grip entirely. "Come on, Jim--_please_. I know you're in there, man. I know you're scared and hurting, and so confused...but cooperate here with me, babe, and I'll get you taken care of. Come on, lover. Take a deep, deep breath--fill your lungs full of me. You know I'm safe, Jim... Hear my voice, _listen_ to it. Breathe in, scent me... I'm no threat to you, am I? You're safe with me. That's it, Jim...calm down...relax...let me help you." He sighed as the large body beneath him relaxed a little bit, calming down slowly.

"What in the _HELL_ are you doing?"

The outraged voice behind him broke both of their concentrations. Blair cursed loudly when Jim's body jerked, then began shifting and wiggling again, pushing him off balance and causing him to lose hold of the arm band he'd nearly had undone. He turned his head and glared at the man--doctor, from the look of arrogance on his face, and the white coat he was wearing--standing in the door.

"What the hell did you think _you_ were doing, putting him in restraints like this?" Blair's voice was calm and icy-cold as he stared at the doctor, knowing intuitively that this was the asshole responsible. "And why the hell hasn't anyone been back to check on him? He's _bleeding_, man. His wrists are raw." The younger man paused to rub a hand soothingly over the agitated man next to him, speaking in a quiet, calming tone. "Shhhh, Jim...easy, man. Breathe in, babe. Deep, slow breaths...I know, I know...this one's not safe, is he? It's okay, man. I'm gonna take care of it."

The large body next to him grunted and moaned, straining toward him. He reached down and ran his fingers through Jim's hair, letting him feel his presence.

"He's in restraints for his own good--his safety. The anti-psychotic wasn't working very well to calm him down and he was in danger of hurting himself."

"The _WHAT_??" Blair nearly screamed the word, pausing just long enough at the last minute that the word came out as a strangled shriek, but not actually a scream. His chest heaved with his effort to calm himself down and he shifted away from Jim, torn between the need to protect him and the deep, driving desire to kick the shit out of this doctor--however figuratively. The moment for remaining calm was quickly fading into the background and he bit his lip again to keep from screaming obscenities at this quack. "I told the admitting physician in the ER that Jim is highly drug sensitive," he ground out through clenched teeth. "It's in his charts, in all his records. What the _fuck_ are you doing, giving him anti-psychotics?"

"As I told you," the doctor moved to the end of Blair's bed and flipped open the chart, "Mr. Sandburg, we are trying to help Mr. Ellison. The anti-psychotic is a means to calm him down and help him get his system under control."

Blair eased himself off of Jim's bed, afraid to continue this conversation here, when every part of his friend was open and receptive to stimuli of any kind. Jim didn't need any more negative energy flowing around and through him. "Under control," he repeated incredulously. "Does he _look_ like he's under control? Is there one _shred_ of evidence anywhere that would indicate your stupid drugs are helping him at all? He's _bleeding_, where he's tried to get free of the restraints, man. He's shaking, and moaning--"

"He's psychotic," was the clipped response. Blair felt his mouth drop open in stunned disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

"Mr. Ellison is exhibiting symptoms of extreme psychotic behavior, Mr. Sandburg. He'll continue to be treated thusly until such a time as his behavior changes enough to warrant another diagnosis."

_Breathe, Blair. Deep breaths, man. Slow, easy...don't give in to those homicidal tendencies that are running amok in your system right now. C'mon, Blair..._ "Did you even _read_ his chart? There is a short version of our experience in there--as well as a list of the heavy-duty hallucinogens that he was dosed with, on a very regular basis."

The doctor shrugged. "Chemical or biological, however he arrived at the psychosis isn't important at this point. Getting it under control is."

Blair stared at him. "How in the _hell_ did you manage to get a license to practice medicine of any kind?" he asked in a very controlled voice. "You have got to be the biggest--"

"Mr. Sandburg, I'd like to remind you that this hospital doesn't tolerate the patients abusing the staff. You need medical treatment, but if you become too much for the staff to deal with, you can be transferred to County."

The grad student narrowed his eyes and shifted a little closer to the doctor, pointing a finger into his chest. "You go on and make threats, man. Let's see who can threaten the loudest when I have you slapped with a lawsuit for negligent practice and behavior." He struggled to take a calming breath before continuing, "I went to a lot of trouble to make sure that the stimulants and hallucinogens that Jim was dosed with were known to you people, along with the dosage--as best I was able--and the fact that Jim is very sensitive to almost all forms of medication. He can't even take cold medicine, for Chrissake. He's been tortured, doctor, viciously tortured, and forced to do things that conflict completely with his personal moral and ethical code. On top of all of that, prior to this, he was involved intensely in trying to solve the case that started all of this. I'm sure his mental state is a little shaky--most people's would be. But you need to exercise a little compassion here, as well as medical treatment."

The doctor sputtered at him for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. "You'd presume to tell _me_ how best to treat this man?"

Sandburg stared then shook his head. "You're not getting it, are you? No, man! I don't know jack about medicine. But I do know people, and more importantly, I know _this_ person!--and the program of treatment you've set up for him _isn't_ going to work."

Dark eyes stared haughtily, and thin lips sneered at him. "Listen, you punk kid. I don't know where you think you can--"

Blair stabbed his finger back into the doctor's chest. "I'm _not_ a punk kid. I'm an adult, and I would appreciate it if you'd afford me the courtesy of addressing me as such, and by my name. You've already totally disregarded professional courtesy--I don't have a clue what your name is. At least be personally courteous." The low-pitched voiced dropped several notches. "You listen to me, doctor. I've spent the last year and a half observing this man. I know the things he reacts to, and how he reacts. I know his different moods and his ways of responding during them. Jim is in the midst of a drug-induced psychotic _hell_, and rather than helping him, you're making it _worse_ for him, by pumping him full of more drugs. Take the restraints off of him, _don't_ give him any more meds...and hopefully he'll start to come down out of this soon."

The doctor backed up a little bit, but his expression was still belligerent. He opened his mouth to respond, when the door swung wide, startling both men.

"Simon--thank god!" Blair breathed, his body sagging in relief.

"Sandburg! What the hell are you doing out of bed? And who are you?" The big black man swung his piercing gaze to the doctor Blair had pushed nearly to the wall.

"He--they've got Jim in restraints, Simon...man, help me...help him--"

Simon moved quickly to Blair's side, alarmed at the sudden shade of pale spreading across the grad student's face. "Sandburg? Blair!" He caught the kid in his arms as Blair's legs seemed to give out under him, fire snapping in his own eyes when he swung his gaze over to take in his best detective, now a bit quieter, his face turned toward them, although the eyes didn't look like Jim was present.

"Get this--_doctor_\--" Blair spat the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth, "--out of here, Simon. I want someone else looking after Jim."

"You can't just arbitrarily decide on a new doctor," Simon began, only to be cut off by the doctor himself.

"You do not have the authority, Mr. Sandburg. Only Mr. Ellison or his appointed guardian could make that decision for him."

Blair pushed himself upright, leaning back slightly against Simon, but still supporting his own weight. The doctor drew back from the blue-black rage snapping from Blair's eyes. "You are _addressing_ his guardian," he managed in an almost-civil tone. The younger man felt the start of surprise from the older man behind him and shrugged, half-turning. "Jim changed his paperwork about six months ago, man," he said, almost apologetically. "I thought he told you."

"He probably did." Simon shook his head, dismissing that. His gaze swung to the doctor in front of them, then to Ellison, then back down to the trembling man resting against him. "Let's get you into bed and then we can discuss it further." He turned Blair to guide him back to his bed; the younger man balked and shook his head.

"Next to him, Captain. Please. He needs to know I haven't left him." Blair groaned and shifted, turning toward Jim's bed. Simon shook his head.

"Sandburg, you need to be in your own bed. C'mon, Blair."

"No." Blair stubbornly shook his head and grasped his IV pole tighter. "Jim needs me, Simon. He needs to feel me next to him--I'm his anchor."

Banks stood, staring at Blair, indecision shining on his face. "Is this one of those--senses things?" he asked quietly.

"Sorta, yeah." Sandburg shrugged awkwardly, then slowly shuffled toward Jim's bed. "He's totally lost in hallucinations and a sensory kind of hell right now, Captain. He knows me...and he trusts me to guide him through that. And he needs to be able to touch me, if it becomes necessary."

"Touch--how?" Banks frowned. "Sandburg, I heard Dr. Edwins tell you that--"

"Not like that, Simon! Jeez, man!" Blair grimaced in exasperation. "Just, y'know, _touch_. To feel me." _The odds of Jim ever touching me again are so slim they're non-existent at this point. _No point in sharing that with Simon, however. It would be more than their Captain and friend would want to know.

"Whatever, Sandburg." Simon shook his head. "Get in next to him, then--but for God's sake, be careful. Don't open your stitches--or whatever." The captain turned his gaze back to the doctor who'd watched the entire exchange with interest. "You and I will talk in the hall. Sandburg, do you need help with the restraints?"

"Nah, man--I can get 'em. Just get _him_," Blair gestured with his chin toward the doctor, "out of here. He's, like, sending off negative energy, man. Jim doesn't need any more of that right now."

The large police captain nodded brusquely. "I'll take care of it, Sandburg." Banks gestured toward the door with his hand, his words clipped as he addressed the doctor. "After you."

* * *

The door closed behind them with a soft &lt;snick&gt;, and although the voices came through faintly, Blair paid no attention to them. His only focus was on his sentinel, lying so still now on the bed that if it weren't for the rise-and-fall of his chest, Blair might've believed Jim was dead.

He sighed in relief as the atmosphere in the room began to ease. A slow, cautious dance around Jim's bed loosened all the restraints, and finally, he carefully crawled onto the small bed with his partner, groaning as he slowly settled himself.

He ached in places he didn't remember having, and whatever didn't ache, throbbed dully or stung. He was tired. Bone-deep tired. With a quiet moan Blair shifted a little bit, easing himself back against the larger man, copying the position they'd slept in for well over a week. A quiet whimper escaped into the air behind him, and the observer felt his heart leap in response.

"Jim?" He tilted his head back slightly, his voice very low, nearly a whisper.

Another soft whimper greeted him, then warm arms slowly slid around him, cradling him closer. Gentle, whisper-soft lips touched against his neck, then a splash of liquid warmth fell against the same. Blair felt tears well in his own eyes. "Aw, no, man," he whispered. "Don't cry, Jim. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay." He stroked his hands soothingly up and down the taut muscle holding him, whispering soft, soothing words and noises. The body behind him shook with the force of the emotion moving up through him. Blair held on tight, anchoring his partner as best he could.

_Got you, babe. Never gonna let you go. I'll fight for you...for us, forever, if necessary. Hold tight; cry all you want to...all you need to. I'll never let you go, Jim Ellison. You hold my heart; I'll keep your soul. We are bound together in some strange, wonderful, beautiful, magical way; we're fated to be together, I believe. Now I just have to convince you of that. Or maybe you see it already and that's some of what scares you. I don't know. Just hold fast, lover. I won't let you down._

Blair tightened his hold on the hands in front of him and whispered, "I love you, Jim." He closed his eyes and let the quiet sounds of Jim's tears flow over him. He was warm and drowsy and, even if he did ache and hurt uncomfortably, he was still being held by the man he loved. He was almost asleep when the low, hoarse voice washed over him.

"Love you, too...Blair."

* * *

Chapter 17

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know  
What I was walling in or walling out.  
\--_Robert Frost_

He crawled up from the depths of sleep aware of only one thing: he'd never hurt so badly in his life. Not physically--what few pains he had scattered across his body were minimal; certainly he'd had worse in his life. No, this was mental and emotional. He felt...raw. Like an open wound that everything was aggravating as it rubbed against him.

Images flashed across his eyelids, bathing them with memories and flashbacks. Flashes of sensation rocked through him and he moaned quietly and tried to push them away from him. Some of the memories were good ones; he would forever treasure and cherish the ones of Blair letting him kiss him, of Blair letting him touch and caress him. Then there were the other ones; the darker memories that were so irrevocably linked with the good ones. Pain. It stood out in his memory. Pain from needles, from a knife...of causing pain.

He shifted fitfully, the thoughts throbbing in his brain. Nothing hurt as bad as these did, and no matter how far he'd pulled back from them, he couldn't get away. How far back could he go? Could he get away? If he pulled himself all the way in, could he get rid of the memories? What else would he lose? _Your sanity might go...if it's not gone already,_ a soft voice hissed. He looked around in confusion, clearly having heard the words. _If I'm crazy, then it's okay, because none of this happened. It means it's all in my mind...and Blair's okay. Nothing I imagined happened, and he can't be hurt then._

The yet-rational side of his brain knew that wasn't the case, but he couldn't listen to that part of himself any more. It hurt too badly; the pain cut too deep for even his stoicism to withstand. Blindly, he reached out one last time, desperately needing grounding, needing his anchor...knowing even as he did so it wasn't going to be enough; wasn't going to work this time. The only way he was going to be able to live with the pain was to go away. Far, far away.

There was a silken warmth against him and a warm scent surrounding him, and his wounded soul drank it all in thirstily, craving the contact at the same time that he felt he should deny himself this. _Can I leave this? I don't have a choice. I have to. I have to find a way...keep him safe, not let anything else happen. I have no right to this any longer, if I ever did have._ Another quiet moan broke from his lips and he sobbed once, realizing that he wasn't strong enough to do that. Wasn't strong enough to keep himself from the one thing he needed more than life, but no longer deserved. The warm skin beckoned him, and Jim moved his lips against it, seeking out the carotid artery with his tongue, feeling it pulse gently beneath him. He sighed and sucked lightly, his tongue stroking the warm, rhythmic place as he drew comfort from touching his Guide like this.

It would be the last time. He was going to find the strength. It was in him--he only needed to tap into it.

* * *

Blair came awake to the sensation of Jim's lips against his throat. He shivered, then groaned quietly when the shiver set off a small chain reaction of pains and aches throughout his body. The arms around him tightened a little, squeezing gently, then relaxed, still holding him, but not tightly. Jim stopped sucking, but kept his lips against Blair's neck, just holding there.

"Jim...you awake, man?"

There was a long pause when Blair wondered if he'd get an answer; wondered if Jim was capable of giving him an answer. Finally, when he'd nearly given up, a low, hoarse voice whispered against his skin.

"yes."

Well, it was a start. "How d'you feel?"

Another long pause. "hurts."

Blair stifled a groan as he tried to shift over, struggling against the arms that held him. He groaned again, then realized that Jim wasn't going to _let _him shift--didn't want to look into his eyes. He stilled himself and breathed in and out slowly until the pain eased, then asked quietly, "What hurts, babe?"

Was it his imagination, or did Jim actually flinch a little bit when he used the endearment?

"everything."

_'Everything' is awfully ambiguous_. "Can you tell me something specific, Jim?" Blair kept his voice low and soothing, and stroked one hand over the hands that were white-knuckling each other in front of him.

"my soul."

"Your soul hurts?" _Christ...don't do this, Jim. I can't...God, I don't know how to deal with this anymore._ At that particular moment, Blair knew he'd give anything, make any sort of promise to anyone, for someone to help him work this out. A small breathy sigh escaped his lips. "Aw, Jim..."

"don't." The whisper was harsh, and the arms around him tightened. "don't try to make it better, Blair. the best thing is...is to leave me alone. run far away...before i can hurt you again."

The quiet sob in Jim's voice made Blair's heart ache worse than it already did. "No, way, man. I'm not quitting on you...and I'm sure as shit not letting you quit on me. You can forget about that, across the board."

"no..."

The harshness of the word, and the emotion behind it chilled Blair from the inside out and he shivered.

"C'mon, Jim...please. I know you're hurting, man...but we're gonna get better. You're gonna get better. We'll get help--you have to see that it'll be okay."

"Can't do this again, Blair...can't take the chance...won't hurt you again." _I love you too much,_ the Sentinel thought desperately, his mind beginning to push away, to move to that quiet safe place, far from things that hurt. He could feel the slow drip of hot tears down his face, but couldn't think about it any longer.

"Jim? Jim...c'mon, man, talk to me."

Silence greeted him; a silence broken only by the soft susurration of Ellison's breathing, and the quiet noises that filtered in from the hallway outside their room. Icy tendrils snaked through Blair's body as he considered what might be going on, and what his options for dealing with it were.

_Is this a zone-out? Can I talk him through it? He's not real responsive to my voice right now, which is really weird...he's flat-assed scaring me, is what he's doing. God, man, don't do this... What if he's... No, I don't want to go there. Jim's not gonna shut down here...is he? How much can the human psyche take, before it caves in on itself? Fuck, I wish I'd paid more attention to some of those psych classes I took._ He snorted, the absolute absurdity of what he'd just thought almost amusing. As if he could help Jim with just a few classes in basic-level psychology, from his undergrad days, well over six years ago.

He was about to try again to turn inside the iron embrace holding him, when the door opened and two women walked in.

One was dressed in colorful scrubs, moving in a brisk, no-nonsense way. The other was dressed in colorful scrubs as well, but her manner was...different. More thoughtful, somehow. She watched both of them, her eyes bright and welcoming.

"Hi," she offered, approaching the side of the bed Blair was facing out toward. "I'm Dr. Elizabeth Logan--but you can call me Liz." She stuck her hand out and Blair slowly raised his to grasp it.

"Hi, Liz. I'm Blair." She was pretty. Not like drop-dead gorgeous, but pretty. Lively looking. Short, dark hair that curled around her face; hazel-colored eyes that looked warm and concerned, and friendly. A round face, with a soft sprinkling of freckles scattered over cheeks and nose. Blunt chin, slightly blunted nose. Blair smiled at her, feeling for the first time in what felt like forever, that _maybe_ someone was going to help them.

"Nice to meet you, Blair. Um, Sandburg, right?"

"Yeah."

"So this is Jim, then?" Liz nodded to the figure still clutching tightly--silently--behind him.

"Jim Ellison. Right."

"Jim--I'm Dr. Logan...I'm going to be treating you. Both of you," she added, turning her focus back to Blair.

There was no response from Jim, not even a twitch of muscles. Liz frowned and walked to the other side of the bed. "How long has he been like this?"

Blair shook his head. "A few minutes. We were talking...and then he just...he just _stopped_ talking. He cried for a few minutes...but he hasn't said a word."

"What were you talking about? Nancy--could you come give me a hand here? Blair, Nancy's going to help you off the bed, and back over to yours. I need to examine Jim here, and I'm going to need the whole bed, okay?"

_No! I don't want separation between us! I need him, he needs me..._ "Uh, sure." He grimaced when the nurse moved to help him sit up, shifting himself slowly, biting his swollen, scabbed lip to keep from moaning when the pain inside him moved and intensified.

"Blair, it's okay to make noise. It hurts--don't try to hold it in."

The anthropologist flashed a grateful smile over his shoulder at the woman who was currently slowly shifting his partner onto his back. "Thanks." He stood on shaky legs for a moment, then let Nancy help him over the other bed. She was pretty too, and looked to be about his age. In another time, in another place, he'd probably have had her phone number by now.

Now he didn't want anyone but the man lying totally unresponsive in the other bed.

"C'mon, Blair--I need to take your vitals. Dr. Logan will check your sutures when she's finished with Mr. Ellison." Nancy helped him onto his stomach, then spoke quietly to him while she took blood pressure, temperature, checked his pulse and a myriad of other things that he shut out while watching Liz working over Jim.

"Is he gonna be okay?" he questioned roughly, some of the pain and panic of the last ten days bleeding into his voice.

"He's going to be okay, Blair." Liz looked up at him, and Blair could read the concern, but the belief there in her eyes. "His physical reserves are low, and he's in pretty rough shape psychologically speaking...but he'll be okay. We'll--I'll--do everything within my power to make sure of that."

"The...other..._doctor_," he spat the word like he had last night, unable to truly reconcile that word with the man who'd been in here, "restrained him...drugged him. He's _really_ drug sensitive, Liz--I don't know what he gave him, but it knocked him for a major loop." Blair paused, then continued on. "He said...he's said Jim's psychotic, too. Man, he's _not_...and he can't have that shit on his record...he's a cop for cryin' out loud." The hand he raised to push through his tangled, dirty curls was shaking, he noticed.

"They prescribed Navene for him--one of the stronger doses." The young doctor frowned, reading over the chart, then looked over to check Ellison's wrists. She frowned harder, and gestured for the nurse. "Nancy, get a kit and get these cleaned up and bandaged, okay? We're going to need to have the wounds on his stomach, and his--" she paused, reading over the chart again, "--his thighs cleaned as well." She waited until the nurse had nodded and left the room, then asked, "Blair, do you know if he's sensitive to antibiotics?"

"I don't--know. We haven't done...Jim doesn't get sick much. It's never come up."

"Well, I'm going to give him a very low dosage of amoxicillin, and see how he tolerates that. He's showing minor signs of infection and we need to get that taken care of. As the other goes, I don't believe Jim is psychotic. I'm going to have to go over all of the information in the chart, and I'd like to talk to you at length as well, before I can actually make a diagnosis, but I don't believe he's suffering from psychosis."

The younger man flopped back onto his pillow, the tears that he'd held at bay for the last twenty-four hours pushing forward now. He was tired, scared, wounded, and his partner was totally non-responsive, totally withdrawn. He reached a hand up to wipe at the moisture seeping from his eyes, but the gesture was ineffectual; more tears replaced the ones he wiped away. A shudder tore from him when he recalled the gentle way that Jim had held him and soothed him, wiping the tears away for him, that first day in their own private little hell.

"Blair?" The voice was soft and very gentle, but he startled anyway, his eyes flying open. "Do you feel like you need something to help you calm down?"

"N..no...I don't think so," God, his heart was pounding so fast it felt like it was going to push right out of his chest in a minute. "I don't--" he gasped a little unable to breathe, the whole world pushing in on him. "Liz, I can't...I can't--"

"Hang on, Blair--you're having an anxiety attack. Breathe deeply, slowly...come on, Blair, you can do it. Take slow, steady breaths; try to clear your mind." The grad student tried blocking out all thoughts, listening to the soothing, calming tones of Liz' voice, letting it wash over him. He gasped several times, as his body tried to take in all the oxygen it was demanding, as quickly as it was demanding it.

"I don't...it's just--" He choked a little bit, his throat thick with suppressed emotion.

"You're okay, Blair. You know you're safe, right? You're in the hospital, and you're safe and nothing can hurt you in here."

"Right. Safe." Blair looked around, seeing Jim. "Jim--"

"Is safe, too, Blair. It's okay. We're going to take good care of both of you." Liz pressed the call button above Sandburg's bed and spoke into the intercom. "I need two cc's of Prozine." She turned back to Blair. "I'm going to give you a sedative, Blair. Not enough to knock you out, just enough to help you calm down and relax. Okay?"

"I...Yeah. Okay. Geez," he ran fingers through his hair again, his whole body shaking now. "I hate this," he whispered. "I really, really hate this. Man, I was holding it together okay...was doing all right. What happened?"

Nancy came in with the medication and Blair closed his eyes while it was administered. When he looked again, Liz was standing by the side of his bed, watching him. "Your body and your mind are starting to realize what has happened to you. You're reacting to all that, now."

"It sucks," he whispered, still breathing as deeply as he could manage, feeling his heart banging like a hailstorm against a tin roof.

"Yeah, anxiety attacks suck," the doctor agreed in a mild voice. Blair looked up at her. "How are you feeling now, Blair? Any better?"

He took a slow breath, letting it out carefully. He felt calmer, a little drowsy, but not bad. "Better," he affirmed cautiously. "My--um, I'm kind of achy right now."

"Do you want something for the pain?"

Sandburg shook his head. "I don't like medication," he offered in a low voice. "I'll be okay."

"You don't have to be 'okay', Blair. We'll help you--that's what we're here for."

"Just take care of Jim."

Liz fixed him with a long, assessing look. "Jim's gonna be a while getting better, Blair. You know that, don't you?"

He heard a ragged sigh and knew it came from him. "Yeah," he managed, in a whispered, breathless voice. "I guess I do...it's just..._hard_, y'know? They messed with him so bad. He didn't deserve that. Didn't deserve any of the shit they put him through."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you feel like you did?"

"No--that wasn't what I meant. I just meant that he went through a helluva lot more than I did. All I had to do was lay there and take it. He's the one they tortured and everything." His eyes were stinging again, remembering the experience that was beginning to take on the wavy haze of a memory.

"I read your report--the short version." Liz watched him. "As soon as we get Jim taken care of, I'd like to talk to you about some of what's in there--some of your experiences."

"Are you going to be handling um, my--"

"Therapy?" At Blair's nod, Liz shook her head. "Not long-term. For now, while we get you--and Jim--stabilized and readjusted, yes. Outside of the hospital, no. I'm sorry about that, but I have too many commitments here to the hospital to take on long-term clients."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say to that. She was really nice, and he trusted her at some gut-level.

"My sister has a practice here in town; in fact, she runs the facility that I'm going to be transferring Jim to--perhaps you'd like to contact her."

Blair shrugged off everything but the fact that Jim was going somewhere else. "What do you mean the facility Jim's going to? Why not home?"

Those warm, intelligent eyes stared at him, watching him quietly. "Jim's not going to be in any shape to be going home for a while, Blair. Several weeks, at least. He's going to need rest and medication, and intensive therapy to get him back to a functioning level."

"Fuck," he whispered quietly, knowing she was right. He stared at the pillow in front of him, felt the tremors as his body started to shake once again. "I can't handle this," he offered in a very quiet, very calm voice.

"Yes, you can," she retorted, coming back to his side to touch his shoulder. "You're tired and in shock, Blair. You've had a horrible experience. You're not going to just 'put it behind you', but you can try to distance yourself from it for a little while. I want you to close your eyes and think about the most pleasant thing you can imagine. It doesn't matter what it is, or if anyone else would agree with you. Just whatever image or thought makes you feel safe and secure. Then I want you to fix that image in your mind, and relax."

"Like meditation." His voice was still strangely calm, as though he was unable to verbalize his confusion. And as upset as he felt right now, Blair had to admit that he felt strangely at ease; strangely calm inside.

"Right. This is a form of meditation. You need rest, right now. Your body needs to be able to begin healing. Relax, lay back, and know that you and Jim are in good hands, Blair. I'm going to do everything I can, for both of you."

"Thank you," he whispered, settling back down on his belly. He closed his eyes and began sorting through images and memories, looking for the exact words, the precise moment. Dimly he heard Liz tell him she was going to check his stitches, and he shifted so that she could do so, but his mind was busying with the memory that would best comfort him right now. A memory of the night Jim had told him he was in love with him.

He sighed and shivered a little bit as he sank deeper into the pillow, blocking out as much of the outside world as he could. He listened and heard Jim's voice rumbling pleasantly to him, telling him how he'd been in love for a while. A small smile spread across his face. _It's going to be okay, Jim. We're going to be okay. We love each other, and we're meant to be together--nothing can force that, and separate us. We'll get through all this. I'm here for you baby. I know you'll feel the same, when you're better able to handle everything. Love you, Jim._

* * *

_He was hot. Or was it just that everything else around him was cold? It was bright and he couldn't find the right place to look for the off-switch. Everything felt fumbled; off-kilter, out of whack. Breathy noises called a bit of his attention away from itself and he listened intently, hearing the quiet susurration of breathing. A loud gurgle resounded through him and he felt the vibrations as much as heard the sound. Another gurgle, then a strange liquid noise. Quiet ka-thumps filled his ears. The soft padding noises of a large animal on quiet ground._

_A cool touch, then brief, burning, white-hot pain, then soft noises soothing him. Other noises, rumbling and mumbling from far away. Sounds he should--could--recognize, were he so inclined. He wasn't. It was safe here. Quiet, peaceful, restful. He could lose himself in himself. A gentle touch against his head and softer mumbling noises._

_A gentle, salty rainfall touched him; the moisture was warm and felt good against his skin. It was hot around him now, but he was cold. Or was he? He wasn't certain. The bad things behind the wall wanted him...wanted him to come out. Hot and cold existed and flourished behind that wall. Things that could hurt him, if he acknowledged that they were there. It was far, far better to do this and ignore them. More mumblings filled his ears and one very small part of him wanted to go back out there and listen; wanted to hear what they were saying. The rest of him screamed and gibbered and howled in terror at the idea. Here was where he was safe. If he left this place there was no accounting for what could happen. He would be at risk._

_A slow, steady beat filled his ears then, and throbbed against him. He could feel heat there, brushing over him, moving slowly. It was wonderful, and maddening. It called to him at the same time it pushed him further into himself. The beat increased, became an almost-staccato rhythm, pulsing through him now. There was fresh salt on the air, and more warm water trickling over him; another gentle shower on its way. A soft sound thrummed through him, and it evoked a memory of another sound...one that sounded like...Jim._

* * *

"Any change?"

The softly spoken question pulled Blair from the light doze he'd sunk into and he looked up, blinking owlishly at the large black man standing before him. "Huh? Oh," he shook his head, trying to shift the curls back, "no, none. Dammit."

Sandburg growled the last word, then shifted cautiously. Liz had absolutely refused to let him sleep any more with Jim, and she wasn't real happy about him sitting next to him all the time, insisting that he needed to sleep, to rest. But resting and sleeping weren't very pleasant at the moment, so Blair defied her that much, and spent many of his hours huddled into a fairly comfortable chair that Taggart and Brown had commandeered for him.

"You need to get some sleep, Sandburg," Banks grumbled. "You're not going to get better if you spend all your time sitting up here, holding Ellison's hand."

Blair raised an eyebrow then cautiously shifted himself out of the chair. How did you explain to someone why you preferred exhaustion over the images that greeted you in your dreams, each time you tried to submit to Morpheus? "Not tired," he managed, walking slowly past Banks toward the bathroom. "Keep an eye on him, would you? I'll be right back."

Simon's voice followed him into the bathroom. "How the hell could you _not_ be tired, man? You haven't slept maybe six hours in the forty-eight you've been here..."

Blair closed the door, shutting out Simon's voice. After a long moment of consideration, when he thought about all that the dark could hide, he switched on the light, then leaned against the wall to stare into the mirror.

Forty-eight hours. Two lousy, stinking days. And in those two days, everything about both of them had fallen into a million pieces. Pieces Blair wasn't so certain anymore could be put back together.

His first therapy session had been this morning, and had been okay--at first. He'd bull-shitted his way through so many of them in the past that he'd blithely assumed he could do the same now, with the same results. He hadn't counted on Liz being as tenacious as a dog with a fucking bone.

He stared into his own reflection; into his own eyes, now smudged with deep violet shadows beneath, and shivered. _So what if I'm having a little trouble sleeping?_ He asked the reflection there. _A little?_ His mind scoffed. _If that's a little, what do you consider to be a lot? Total sleep deprivation? Of course, almost there, too._ Blair sighed and searched his eyes for clues. Every time he closed them he'd see Chardis looming over him, ripping his earrings out or with a syringe and cock ring in hand, coming toward Jim. The absolute evil on her face as she held a knife over his partner and carved symbols into him. The hideous expression of glee when she saw him lying on the chamber floor in his own vomit, blood and semen leaking from his ass--

He made it to the toilet just in time before the harsh, wrenching spasms emptied his stomach completely.

He had about ten seconds of peace to try and collect his thoughts when there was knocking on the bathroom door and Simon's voice calling out to him.

"Sandburg? You okay in there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a minute." He wiped his mouth off on a piece of toilet paper, then stood on shaky legs to peer into the mirror again. _Mirror, mirror on the wall..._ Hysterical laughter bubbled up and he bit down on his lip to keep it inside. His eyes looked wild and scared, even to him. _So, this is fucking great. At the time when I most need to be holding it together, I lose it completely. Great. Just fucking great._ Another image loomed up large over him and he stared himself down in the mirror, pushing it away ruthlessly. He couldn't deal with that one just yet.

Simon was waiting in the other chair by Jim's bed when he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. He gave the big man a weak smile, then sat down carefully in his chair, reaching automatically for Jim's hand. His partner gave no indication that he was aware of either of them, just laid there, staring sightlessly, unblinkingly up at the ceiling. If it weren't for the gentle rise-and-fall of the large chest, Blair might've thought Jim was dead.

"Did he move at all?" he questioned, once he was settled. His fingers stroked gently, an unconscious rhythm up and down the large, pale hand. Simon shook his head.

"Not so much as a blink. Blair--"

"Uh-oh." The younger man tried for smile, managed a wan imitation. "I must be in trouble if you're using my first name."

"Can it for a minute, would you?" Simon looked uncharacteristically frustrated. "What are you planning on doing, Sandburg? When you're released."

The anthropology student stared at him for a moment, noting the singular usage of 'you'. "I don't know," he said finally, his stomach coiling into knots as he voiced the words. His voice dropped into a hoarse, raw whisper. "I don't know. Jim's not--" he paused to swallow, then tried again. "Jim will be going to a...a private hospital...but I don't...I guess I'll be going back home." _Home_. He swallowed again. Without Jim there, it would be like all his other residences of the past. Just another place he'd lived in.

"You gonna be okay there on your own?" Simon's face was shuttered closed, and Blair found himself wanting to hug the big man for the obvious concern he was trying to hide.

"I'll be okay, man. Liz says I'm healing pretty well...I should be fine."

"If you want...need..." the big captain's voice stuttered for a second, then continued, "if you're not able...you're welcome to come stay at my place until you can get back on your feet. Darryl and I would love to have the company."

The younger man just stared for a moment. Concern was one thing, but this went well beyond the boundaries of that. This was...friendship. "Thanks, Simon." He worked to keep his voice level, knowing that Banks was uncomfortable with demonstrative displays. "That means a lot, man. I appreciate the offer."

"Just wanted you to know that you have friends...and help...if you need it. And I know that Jim would want me to make sure you were looked after, if...well, if he wasn't able to."

This time Blair _did_ smile, and he laid a shaky hand for a moment on Simon's shoulder. "Thanks, man."

"Forget it," Banks growled, giving a low-level glare to the hand on his shoulder. His eyes softened then. "I want you to take care of yourself and get well, Sandburg." He jerked his chin toward the still, silent figure in the bed beside them, "he _needs_ you to get well. So in light of that, why don't you go lie down? I'll sit right here and make sure Jim's okay...and that you are, too."

Blair shook his head fondly. Since their admittance to the hospital two days ago, there had been an armed guard standing watch outside their room--and usually someone in here sitting with them. He knew that Jim was friends with most of these guys. What really warmed his heart was how many of them came in and sat next to him and talked to him about how _he_ was feeling. Only Simon and Joel knew what had _really_ happened to and between Jim and Blair. Brown and Rafe and a few others knew he'd been sexually assaulted, but not by whom, or why. Blair planned on it staying that way, if possible. His and Jim's private lives were just that--their private lives.

"I don't think I could sleep, Simon," he offered, even while inside his body was begging for it. "I--need to sit here with Jim. For a little while."

"How the hell can you expect to get well if you're not resting? I don't--"

The door opened, breaking Simon's tirade. Liz entered, along with a nurse Blair hadn't seen before.

"Hey, Liz."

She frowned at him when she saw him sitting up, then shook her head, her voice fondly exasperated. "It does no good to tell you to do or not to do something, does it? You're going to make your own rules as needed."

"Welcome to the Sandburg Zone, Doctor." Simon's voice was dry, but amused. "He pretty much does things his own way."

"Yeah, well, my way means makin' sure that Jim is okay," Blair offered petulantly. "And if that means I sit up here next to him and watch him, then that's what I'm going to do."

"Well, that's part of why I'm here, Blair." She moved around to the opposite side of Jim's bed and looked him over carefully, glancing up at the younger man every so often.

"What's why you're here?"

"We need to talk about Jim and his condition, and his future treatment."

_Shit! I don't know if I can handle this right now...c'mon, Liz, have a heart..._ His heart was doing a double-time dance in his chest, and Blair felt his breathing hitch slightly. He knew his Sentinel would hear it...if he was hearing anything right now.

"Okay...what about--all of those."

Simon stood up and shot Blair a sympathetic look. "I'm going to take a walk while you talk to the doctor."

_Aw, Simon...man, don't desert me now..._ But he wouldn't be allowed to stay. Patient confidentiality. "Fine." Blair drew a deep breath and looked up at Liz. "So--talk."

* * *

_The warmth that enclosed his hand was gone, and he missed it acutely. When had it left? Where had it gone? Why? The jumble of feelings and emotions and questions that raged around inside his brain didn't do anything but confuse him further, and he found himself pushing back from those questions._

_He was here for a reason. What was it? Why was it? Something important was missing; eluding him. It was hard to think, though. Hard to concentrate. He could feel and hear and smell, he could taste. He could see, after a fashion, but it wasn't like normal vision. He wasn't sure what normal meant any longer, either. There was nothing formed; nothing coherent. Just thoughts and more thoughts, rattling around inside of him._

_A wave of cool washed over a narrow band of skin, then another, in a different spot. One more, caressing and soothing a larger area, further down from these. He sighed gently; the cooling sensation felt good against the heat of his skin. Minutely he frowned, or he thought he did. He wasn't sure if his face changed or not, it was a frown within himself. Why was his skin so hot? He could sense illness within himself; rot of a sort that must come when evil had been done. But he wasn't evil...was he? He'd done something bad. He could remember that much._

_Wait...wait...he was here because he didn't want to remember. Because it hurt to remember, and this was the last place he could go before those memories overpowered him. This was his last refuge, alone in here, in the dark. He shuddered within himself, pushing frantically at the memories, screaming soundlessly for them to go away, leave him alone. The wall he'd erected wasn't so stable any longer; as he watched in a mix of horror and terror, the first of the bricks came down, crumbling at his feet._

_There was movement outside his body; he was being prodded and touched. Flavors exploded inside him, moving around like individual bits of light and heat. A bouquet of smells assaulted him, some were stronger than others; some much more pleasant. He could smell a familiar one in there...it was the tang of salt and sweat, of heat and light, of the warmth of a different kind of darkness--the kind he'd bury himself in and not come out of, but because of the pleasure, not because he had to hide from the pain. There was meaning to this scent...he knew it well. It was the scent of home. The one who belonged to this scent was his home, his shelter. The storms could rage around him but never touch him so long as he held on to this one. If he could only reach out and touch him...so easily said, so hard to do. Distance was a laughing, dancing figure in here. What appeared close was often far away; what seemed unattainable was often near. He closed his eyes, snarling in frustration and reached out again, only to miss once more. With a sigh of defeat he gave in for now. Home was still out there...he could try again another time. For now he needed to rest, he was too battered from the storms and the oncoming destruction of his wall to do anything else right now._

* * *

Blair watched as Liz finished checking Jim's healing wounds, noting that she frowned over the ones on his thighs. They'd become red and inflamed yesterday and she'd increased the dosage of antibiotic he was receiving. No change so far, apparently.

"Do you want me to take him to the bathroom before we talk?" Blair had been adamant that they not cath Jim unless absolutely necessary. Usually Simon or Taggart or Brown was handy to help him get the bigger man out of bed, but he was pretty certain he could do it alone, if necessary.

"Not right now, Blair." Liz settled herself in the chair the Simon had vacated just minutes ago, and leveled a long, serious look at him. The kind of look that made his heart rate increase. "I want to transfer him from here to Ocean Side tomorrow."

"Ocean Side?"

"Ocean Side Psychiatric Facility. It's a private hospital, for patients who need long-term, inpatient care. The kind of care that Jim's going to need for a while."

"What do you mean, exactly, by 'long-term'?" God, his mouth was dry. He _really_ hated this.

"Long term is generally loosely defined as anything over about three or four days, stretching to a week at the most. After that, the hospital can no longer provide care for the patient, unless it's a situation such as maybe a car accident, or something of that sort, where the patient is clearly healing, but expecting to take a while. In Jim's case, his needs are better served at a psychiatric facility, because that is where the primary hurt is. Medicine can only do so much for him. He needs intensive therapy and group counseling, as well as possible rehabilitative work, if he's catatonic for a long enough period of time."

"How long do you think it'll be before--?" Blair paused, trying to remember what his psych teachers had said--if anything--about a catatonic state.

"Before he comes out of his catatonia?"

"Yeah."

Liz shook her head. "I honestly couldn't say, Blair. No one knows what the triggers are--they seem to be different for everyone. There are no _set_ rules here. Some people aren't as mobile as Jim is, some are more so...it's different for everyone."

"What do you mean by mobile?"

"We're able to get Jim up and maneuver him into the bathroom; once there he pretty much functions on autopilot. His limbs are flexible and malleable. Not everyone is like that; some people are totally non-mobile. There are cases where some are as mobile as Jim, plus open and close their mouths automatically for feedings."

"Jim doesn't do that."

"No, he doesn't. But he does chew, right, once you put the food in."

"Right." Blair nodded his head.

"See, not everyone reacts the same way. It's very, very difficult to look at a catatonic person and try to predict when and what will bring them out of that state."

Throat painfully dry from the nervousness of this whole conversation, Blair managed to rasp, "What causes it?"

"Well...that's kind of a tricky question too, but the simplest explanation is this: catatonia is like the mind's last line of defense against whatever is bombarding it. It's kind of like...the opposite of suicide. Rather than allowing the psyche to destroy itself, it shuts down until such a time as it can handle whatever it feels overwhelmed by at present."

"So...it's a good thing?"

"Yes, and no. Yes, if it allows the person's psyche a respite while their body gets a little stronger; no, if it prevents the person from getting the help they need to deal with the core problem. Blair--" Liz' whole expression softened, and Sandburg felt his heart leap into his throat. Her voice was gentle when she spoke again. "Some people never come out of the catatonia. Whatever it was that they experienced that drove them into that state, they didn't find the strength they needed to come back out. It got to be too comfortable, too safe, and they never returned. I want you to be...I wanted you to know what all the possibilities are."

_Oh, Christ. Oh, fuck. I can't...ohmygod, Jim...man, you have to come out of it. I can't even imagine what life without you would be like. Oh, God...if you're up there and listening to me, please, please, PLEASE help him find the strength...don't take him away from me now that I've found him... Please don't do that._

He nodded, unable to make his vocal chords work enough to verbally acknowledge what she'd said.

There was more; somehow, although he never knew how, he managed to stay a part of the conversation. Asking questions, giving his opinion, injecting bits of Jim's personal history to give her a better overview of the man lying in the bed beside him.

Liz talked about treatment plans and medications; possible side-effects of different meds and the potential possible outcome from some. She filled him in on different policies concerning mental health-related absences from work, and talked about how diagnoses could affect the decisions made regarding those. She made it clear to Blair that for now she was diagnosing Jim as being in an Acute Stress Disorder-induced catatonic state, and that she or the psycho-therapist who would oversee his counseling at Ocean Side would change that as necessary--presumably when Jim woke up and could verbalize again.

* * *

The door closed behind Liz, leaving Blair slumped in the chair next to Jim, watching the bigger man. He stared at him for long, long minutes, then leaned forward to rest his forehead on the arm lying so still on the edge of the bed.

One more night. That's all he had.

"You've got to come out of it, big guy," he murmured quietly. "I can't help you if you're locked away inside your mind, Jim. Come on home, babe. I'll help you...I'll get you the help you need to deal with this. Come home to me, Jim. Please."

Liz' voice replayed in his head. _If he doesn't emerge from the catatonic state we may have to consider other measures._

The 'other measures' were drugs, although she assured him numerous times that she considered those to be totally a last-ditch thing.

_He'll end up on medication anyway,_ the younger man thought caustically. Someone as far into...whatever Jim was into...wasn't going to be able to pull out just by themselves. In spite of his vehement argument against medication, he knew that Liz was going to have to put Jim on a prescribed regimen of something. It was simply going to be a 'wait and see what happens' scenario before they knew what and how much.

It was too much to deal with. He let the tears seep quietly from his eyes, the salt stinging and burning badly, as tired as he was. Jim's arm grew damp, then wet, and Blair let more tears fall, letting a little of his pain and fear bleed out with them.

How long he cried, he wasn't sure. When he came back to himself, the sheet under Jim's arm was wet, and his eyes felt like they were swollen to ten times their normal size. A long shudder passed through him at the renewed thought of life without Jim, then he pushed it away, preferring to try and remain optimistic. He grasped Jim's hand in his own and settled himself a little bit, his eyes slowly closing as exhaustion finally overtook him.

_Please, God...let him find the strength within himself. He's got to come back to me._

 

 Continue in Part Seven


	7. Without Quiet Corners

  
Chapter 18

In this world without quiet corners, there can be no easy escapes...from  
hullabaloo, from terrible, unquiet fuss.  
\--_Salman Rushdie_

 

"Morning, Lori," Blair Sandburg threw out cheerfully to the nurse sitting at the station. She returned his wave and his greeting, then bent her head back to whatever it was she was doing.

_That's cool, because I don't know if I could handle faking it for much longer than just to say hi._ Last night had _not_ been a good one, by any stretch of the definition. He'd woke himself three different times, screaming in total terror, unable to remember _why_, or what he'd dreamt. Shortly after the third incident, when he was sitting on the couch, sweat-soaked and huddled into a blanket, a pounding on the door had scared him nearly into pissing his pants. When he'd opened it, his whole body shaking, he'd been surprised and shocked to see Simon standing there, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, a worried expression on his face.

"The Dresslers called me," Simon had replied tersely to his question of what was he doing here.

"The Dresslers?" His brain hurt. He needed sleep. A coma might be nice. Rest without dreams.

"Your neighbors from downstairs. They heard you screaming. I talked to them last week when you came home--asked 'em to give me a call if they thought anything was wrong."

Great. Now Banks was babysitting. Somehow, he was too tired to get more than mildly upset over the notion.

"Come on in, Simon. Want some coffee? Tea?"

Banks shook his head. "You sit down--or better yet, go take a shower. I'll make you some tea. Just tell me where you keep it."

He didn't even get a break when he came out of the shower. Simon handed him a still-steaming mug and launched right into a full frontal attack. When was the last time he'd slept? How often every night did he have bad dreams? How often did he wake up screaming? Did he ever remember them? When was the last time he talked to his therapist, and had he told her about them?

"I'm not seeing anyone," he whispered, heat blooming on his cheeks.

"WHAT?!" The roar from Simon's mouth would have woke the dead, or at least probably the few neighbors that Blair hadn't disturbed. He looked at the clock. It was 4:52 a.m. "What the hell d'you mean, you're not seeing anyone?" Simon's voice was that calm-before-a-storm tone that he used just before he chewed someone's ass but good. Blair flinched away and shook his head.

"Didn't feel like I needed to talk to anyone. Thought I could deal with this...with it."

"Well you're sure as shit not dealing with it very well, are you?" Simon must have realized at that point that he was pushing a little too hard, and had calmed his tone and backed down a little. "Blair--what happened to you was no less consequential or traumatic than what Jim went through. You need to talk to someone. Get it out. You're the one whose always saying how you've been in and out of therapy since you were in diapers. Get some help, man!"

He was too tired to argue anymore; too tired to hide how tired he was. "Fine. I'll talk to Emily when I go see Jim."

"You promise?"

"I promise, man."

And so here he was. His brain was barely functioning on autopilot; he was jumping at every single noise that he didn't immediately identify, and some he did; not caring one bit about anything outside of seeing Jim and staying with him as long as he could each day. Part of him hoped desperately that he could avoid Emily today because he didn't want to talk about this--about the experience--with anyone. Just wanted to shove it back in his mind and forget it happened. The other part of him, that small part that was still functioning with higher reasoning intact, was insisting that he find her, shoving his obvious signs of mental distress into his face as further proof that he needed some help.

Room 217 loomed in front of him, and his stomach jumped in nervous anticipation. Today, maybe? Would today be the day that Jim would wake up and start to get well again? It'd been over a week now that he'd been here, and nearly two weeks since falling into his catatonic state. What could he, Blair, do differently today; what could he _do_, period, that he hadn't, that might get through to his partner? He took a deep breath and pushed the door open slowly.

* * *

_A low growl reverberated through the very small space he had left; the area that hadn't been littered by the bricks falling down toward him. He looked around, instantly on guard. The heat patterns changed and air began swirling around him in a different manner. There was more intense heat moving up over him, then wet warmth pressing against him momentarily before drawing away. He stilled the panther with a low growl of his own and cocked his head, wondering if it was time yet._

_He wanted to go home. He'd been trying for so long now that each time he failed he got more and more frustrated. It was comfortable to stay in this place as long as he could hold the memories at bay, but they weren't staying behind the wall any longer; they were clamoring and pushing to get out, to get at him. To push them aside, insidious evil that they were, he needed his anchor. The storm around him was intensifying and if he didn't anchor soon he'd get pushed into it and probably be lost forever._

_There was the scent again. The one that meant home to him; the one that meant safety and love and friendship, and other things too ambiguous to name, but just as important. He could smell the tang of salt that he'd started associating with this scent of home, and knew that if he but waited he'd feel that warm, gentle rainfall that always came, sooner or later, with it. The heat diffused around him, centering only on an extension...his hand?...but still enticingly close to the rest of him. Soft sounds, low and murmured, surrounded him, soothing him and the wild beast that sat so patiently at his feet. He shook his head at the animal, silently chastising its earlier alert. What was here now represented the most in safety that he'd ever experienced. The beast smirked back at him, reminding him that in here HE was in charge...not himself. The eyes of the animal changed then, becoming a smoky-hued blue, startling in their depth and intensity, and the sight shook him to his soul. He shuddered and whispered the one word that meant home. "Blair."_

* * *

He almost missed the whisper. He might have, if the fingers under his own hadn't convulsed and closed around his at the same time. The doze that had been moving up over him since his abrupt wakeup earlier in the morning had finally caught up with him when he sat down in the comfortable chair next to Jim's bed. It had been so easy to kiss him hello, whisper an 'I love you', then sit down and hold his hand...and sink toward oblivion.

"B...Bl..."

There it was again, with fingers tightening around his. He jerked himself awake and upright to see sky-colored eyes, foggy with uncertainty and confusion. Blair felt his brain switch automatically into Guide mode.

"Easy, big guy...you're safe. You're in the hospital. Do you understand me, Jim? Know who I am?"

The bigger man nodded, then opened his mouth, his voice a harsh whisper from vocal chords that hadn't worked in nearly two weeks. "B..Blair. M..m.._my_ Blair."

The grad student felt a rush of adrenaline kick through him, and his voice deepened, husky with emotion. "That's right, baby. _Your_ Blair." He squeezed his partner's hand. "Welcome home, Jim."

"Where'm I?" The confusion in those light blue eyes was heart wrenching in the extreme, and Blair leaned over a little and brushed his fingers across Jim's forehead.

"You're in the hospital, Jim."

"Wh..why?" The handsome face crinkled as Ellison frowned.

Blair felt his heart skip several beats. _Why? What d'you mean, 'why'?_ As evenly as he could make his voice sound he asked, "You've been sick, man." He paused a moment, then asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"

The big cop shook his head. "I r..remember a...c..c..cave...and then w..walking, but..." he trailed off, shaking his head again.

_Great! Now what? Emily...gotta get Emily. Fuck! I can't leave Jim here alone...c'mon, Sandburg, think._ His eyes fell on the call button over Jim's bed. Well, duh. It would be nice to sleep again sometime this century, and not feel perpetually stoned, or like he was wrapped in cotton wool. He reached up and pressed the button.

"Nurses station, Lori speaking. What's up, Blair?"

"Lori..." he swallowed heavily, almost afraid to say it out loud, for fear of making it all turn into a dream. "Lori, can you find Dr. Bates for me? Jim's... He's awake."

* * *

Blair woke him from the light doze he slipped into, his eyes closing while waiting for the doctor to show up. There was something very comforting about his friend touching him, smoothing a hand over his forehead to wake him gently. He felt so disoriented; so groggy. It was as if he was Rip Van Winkle and had been sleeping forever.

Vague, half-formed shadows danced across his eyes and his mind, and he shivered even under the weight of two blankets. Blair's eyes were dark with shadows as well; shadows within the blue depths and shadows without; dark smudges on pale skin, taking away from the glory of his gorgeous eyes.

He didn't recognize the woman that was standing now beside his bed, and gripped Blair's hand tighter than before, not able to relax even when his partner winced a little. The smaller man leaned over him and whispered gently, "Easy, big guy," then casually raised their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed Jim's knuckles. Jim's stomach curled in on itself and he tuned out the doctor for a minute.

"Y...you kissed me," he rasped, damning the voice that still wouldn't work properly.

"Y-yeah." Startled dark blue eyes regarded him. "Would you rather I didn't?"

"I--. No. It's okay. I just... I d..didn't expect it."

"Jim." He looked up at the woman with the pleasant expression on her face. Tall, thin, with long, honey-colored hair that had been pulled back and braided; she had deep green eyes, a scattering of freckles across her nose, and a tiny mole at the right corner of her mouth. He nodded, and she smiled at him. "I'm Doctor Emily Bates, Jim. You can call me that, or just Em or Emily is fine too. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"What...hospital?" God, if only he could make his brain work, as well. Why was he so groggy? Why did his head hurt so bad?

"Which hospital is this?" The doctor didn't lose any of her pleasant demeanor, but Jim sensed something was up. He swung his gaze over to Sandburg.

"C'mon...Ch..chief...?"

"Jim." It was Dr. Bates' voice. "You're at the Ocean Side Psychiatric Facility."

"Why?" Dear, sweet Jesus. What had happened? _What's wrong with me? Why can't I remember...I can hear the sounds...I can see the shadows...but I can't see what's in the shadows! And now I'm in a mental hospital...? Blair...Blair's in the shadows too...with me. God..._

"Easy, Jim..." The voice was soft and the words gentle, and the larger man closed his eyes, letting the calm flow over him.

"Tell me...what happened?" He opened his eyes to plead quietly with Blair. "I didn't...did I hurt someone? Did I break down? Why am I here? Help me, Blair...please."

He watched with no small amount of alarm as Blair's eyes darkened with some unnamed emotion, then swung from him to the doctor--psychiatrist?--standing beside him.

"Please," he said gruffly. Dr. Bates opened her mouth, and Jim shook his head. "Blair...please." _C'mon, partner...make all this make sense...I'm drowning here, and I need you to hold me up...Fill in the blanks for me. Show me what's in the shadows._

"Let me tell him," his Guide said quietly to the doctor. She nodded once, then raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be right outside, if you need me."

"Thanks, Emily." Jim watched his Guide smile at the doctor, then turn to him, the smile all at once a little happier, a little sadder. He felt compelled to try and erase that sadness, and raised his free hand up to gently stroke Blair's cheek; his fingers tingled warmly from scratchy whiskers, and his heart tingled when some of the sadness in the smile directed at him eased.

"Tell me, Sandburg," he said gruffly, his throat still sore and achy. Blair held a glass of water to his lips, his eyes silently urging Jim to take a sip.

When he'd drank his fill his partner replaced the glass, then settled into a comfortable-looking chair that had been pulled close up to his bed, hand still grasping Jim's.

"Where should I start?" the younger man asked, thinking out loud. Jim smiled shakily.

"How about I help a little? I remember...the case. I know we were... I can remember waking up in a weird kind of ritual-chamber, and seeing you laid out on a table..." Jim's voice lowered and faltered. "Shit...there were...women...and one of them...wanted to get pregnant."

"Right." Blair's hand tightened around his, and dark blue eyes stared at him, concern etched onto the features there. "Do you remember anything else?"

Jim shook his head. "Nothing concrete. Images and shadows, mostly. I can hear things, I think...but I'm not sure if I'm hearing them or just remembering them, or what. And I had...strange dreams, Chief. While I was...whatever. _Weird_ dreams."

His guide muttered something that sounded like "I'll bet," then smiled weakly at him. "'Whatever', was catatonic, Jim. You just spent eleven days scaring the piss out of me, because what happened to us...to _you_...scared you so bad you withdrew into your mind to get away from it." The younger man paused. "If I'm going to tell you, you have to promise me something, Jim."

"Anything."

Blair raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't even know what I'm going to make you promise."

_Chief, you've been sitting here for nearly an hour, holding my hand, kissing me, hovering over me. I can get a clue here, too. I don't remember shit right now, but I know that our relationship has shifted. And it feels right. And if that means what I think it means, then I'll promise my soul to the devil, if that's what you want me to do._

"Doesn't matter. It's a done deal."

Sandburg bit his lip. "_Promise_, swear to me, man, that if it gets to be too much to hear all this, you'll tell me. Let me stop until you're able to deal with it better."

_This doesn't sound promising right off the bat here._ "I promise." Jim smiled when Blair squeezed his hand tightly and opened his mouth to do what he did best: talk.

* * *

Sandburg came up for air about an hour later, trying to judge how Jim was taking all of this. The stranglehold on his fingers had tightened several times, but Ellison hadn't actually said anything. A few grunts of acknowledgment; a few quiet sighs, and one slight whimper when Blair began recounting the drugging, but nothing as far as actual speech. That, along with the increasing fear and guilt building in Jim's eyes, was beginning to unnerve him.

He told Jim how they'd been coerced into having sex together; then of the resultant feelings that had apparently been simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to blossom into something far sweeter than either had anticipated. Jim's expression softened a little then, and he reached a finger out to stroke along Blair's cheek gently for a moment.

"I can believe that," he whispered. "I loved you in my dreams for a long time."

Blair looked at his partner, startled. "You did?"

"Yeah." Ellison drew his finger back, and the grad student bit his lip to keep from begging him to leave it there. "It's too bad I can't..." he broke off, looking away from Blair.

"Too bad you can't do what, Jim?" Blair drew his face up in confusion, then burgeoning panic when the older man didn't answer him. "Jim? Jim! No way, man. No _fucking_ way!" He tugged hard on the hand holding his own captive and climbed onto the bed, pulling Jim's face toward his. "Don't do this, man. Jim...you don't want to go back there. Baby, come on, _please_."

The blue eyes were glassy, but they blinked once at him, then shimmered under a veil of tears.

"I hurt you," Jim whispered quietly, his voice seeming loud and harsh in the sudden stillness of the room.

"No." Blair threw as much conviction as he could into the word, then began shaking when he saw that Jim wasn't going to cut himself any slack on this. "C'mon, Jim. You didn't have any _choice_, man! You were drugged to the gills; had all of your control totally pulled from you--"

"I hurt you," the big man insisted again, his words slurred by the sobs gathering in him. "Jesus Christ, Blair...I raped you!"

_Goddamn Chardis to fucking hell and BACK! Jim...how do I get through to you? What will it take...how can I make it all right for you; for us? How do I make you see that it wasn't you that did that...and that even if it had been...you can't rape someone who's willing._

"No," he whispered huskily. "You didn't rape me, babe. You took me hard, and it hurt...but you didn't _hurt_ me. Oh, Jim, don't you understand, man? You had no choice. _We_ had no choice. It was a do-it or die kinda thing, and we made the best we could of a very bad situation."

"I remember," Jim continued hoarsely, as if he hadn't spoken. "I remember you bleeding...I had to carry you. You couldn't walk. And the beast inside me...the one _they_ unleashed...it wanted more, Blair." Ellison raised darkened eyes to the younger man. "I'd have done it again...I can feel it."

Blair shook his head. "Do you have any idea how much shit they'd pumped into you? Jim--you were technically OD'd when we got to the hospital. You were so tripped out on hallucinogens that'd I was surprised you knew who anyone was. No one is quite sure how you were still going."

"Had to take care of you."

"And you did, Jim." Blair kept his voice as gentle as possible, then sighed quietly when Ellison turned his head away again. He leaned over and kissed the bigger man gently on the forehead, trying not to take it personally when Jim flinched away from him. "I'll be right back, man." He stroked his fingers lovingly down a pale cheek, then headed for the door.

Emily wasn't there, and he wasn't surprised. He leaned against the wall next to Jim's door and watched one man making a slow circuit around the corridors, his mind making slow circuits of its own, thinking about Jim's doctor. He knew she had other patients, but it would have been nice if she'd been waiting; now, he'd have to wait for her again, to come look at Jim and talk to him, and..._ Christ my head hurts. God, I want to do nothing but lay down in his arms and sleep until Sunday becomes the third day of the week instead of the first. I want the guilt gone from his eyes, and the pain erased, and I want our lives back! I want to go back to the lives we had before all this, but I want to be his lover; I want him as my lover._ He paused in the litany of thoughts, then smiled faintly, turning his eyes upward, feeling the faintest traces of hope for the first time in what felt like forever. _And thank you, whoever, for helping him find himself; find the strength and courage to come back._

* * *

He came back slowly to himself again, aware of other people in the small room. He could still smell and hear Blair, but it was diffused somewhat; there were other scents and sounds that were attempting to mask his anchor.

One he recognized--the doctor from earlier. What was her name? Emily. Yeah. She was looking at him with some concern in her eyes, but that was nothing compared to the worry that Blair was looking at him with. _You go on and be worried, partner. I'm scared shitless, myself._

"Jim?" The doctor's low, smooth voice. "How're you feeling, Jim? Blair said you appeared distressed."

_Distressed, huh? Yeah, that's a good place to start. Chief...Blair...how the fuck can you even stand to be in the same room as me? After what I did..._

"I guess," he slurred, his voice hoarse still from long disuse.

"You guess what, Jim? That you're distressed?"

"Yeah." A nurse. That's who the other person was. A needle bit into his arm and he jerked. "Hey!"

"Blood sample, Mr. Ellison," the nurse soothed calmly. Jim glared at her, then turned his glare to the doctor.

"What's going on?"

"We're still monitoring your system for drug-related damage and potential compromise, Jim. You had heavy, heavy doses of some very powerful hallucinogenic compounds. You're still compromised on a cellular level."

"So how long until I'm not compromised? How long until I can go home?" He directed his question at the doctor, but looked at Sandburg.

He watched his partner's eyes dart around, moving away from the shadows that Jim could see as well. Ellison's arm jerked as he stopped himself from reaching out to Blair, to try and comfort him and tell him that the shadows wouldn't hurt him as long as he stood watch. He didn't, because it was a lie. _I can't protect you anymore. I lost it. I lost control... That right isn't mine any more._

Dr. Bates answered. "I don't think home is a good idea, yet, Jim. Not for at least a few days...you're still compromised physically and mentally. You've been awake for three hours, after eleven days in a trauma-induced catatonic state, and one of your first reactions upon hearing what caused the catatonia, was to drift toward that again."

"So how long?" Again, it was Blair he looked at, and his heart ached at the love he saw in the blue depths staring at him. The question took on a wholly different meaning, looking at Blair, with the hunger still in his soul. Did he imagine it, or did Blair whisper 'forever'? He narrowed his eyes at his guide, then turned his attention back to the doctor. "I'm sorry, you said?"

"It's hard to say for how long," she repeated calmly, meeting his eyes. "That will depend on the kind of progress you make with your therapy."

"Therapy? I don't--"

"Jim," she stepped closer, fixing him with a cool, calm stare. "I don't believe in beating around the bush. You've suffered an extremely traumatic incident. You were kidnapped, forced into a loss-of-control situation, forced to have sexual relations with your partner, and forced to do so in a somewhat violent manner. In addition to that, you were injured yourself; subjected to what amounts to physical and psychological torture. Therapy isn't a 'maybe' option here; it's the bottom line for you. You're _not_ going to leave here until you've begun therapy...and until I'm satisfied that you're dealing with what has happened. Am I coming across clearly?"

He gave her back the same stare, throwing in a little of the ice that was wrapping itself around his soul, just for good measure. "And if I check myself out AMA?"

"Jim." Blair spoke up, his voice low and hushed, but urgent. "Man, don't do that. You'll be throwing away your future. Simon won't be able to put you back on rotation until you've cleared with a psychologist. Is it worth it, man?"

This time he gave into the urge and reached a shaky hand out to stroke one finger down Blair's cheek, feeling the pleasant scratchiness of five-o'clock shadow there. He stared into those eyes that held sadness, concern, fear, and love, and muttered, "No. It's not." He watched Blair's eyes close and an expression of--relief?--cross over his face. "Help me," he whispered then, to the man who held the key to his soul in the azure depths that were open again and gazing at him. "I see...shadows...blocking me. Help me get past them... Anchor me, Blair... I can' t do it alone."

"I'm, like, _so_ here for you, Jim..." the words were a gentle caress, blanketed by an even gentler one when Blair bent his head over, shielding them in a soft curtain of hair. "You're never alone, Jim. I'm here, baby, all the way."

Soft lips touched his, and for a moment he forgot about everything. There was no doctor, no nurse, no hospital, and no endless horror during which he'd brutalized his best friend. There was only the warmth and softness pressing against him; the clean, spicy-fresh scent of Blair surrounding him. He grasped his partner's upper arms, noting the taut muscles and feeling the solid strength. He shivered at the slight touch, then shivered again when it withdrew, his fingers clutching at the heat of Blair's body even as he was helping it push back. His heart pounded in his chest and he looked--away. Anywhere but at the man who had the power to at once banish and recall all the shadows that were pushing in on him.

"I love you." It was the softest whisper; meant only for ears that could hear at that level. Jim jerked his head up to see the shadows lurking within Blair's eyes bloom until he was certain he saw a reflection of himself--a monstrous reflection--reaching out from them. He shuddered and pulled back, watching in terror and anger and sadness as the monster receded and only soft shadows remained there in the dark depths. Shadows of pain. Shadows of guilt. Shadows of love lost.

_Am I looking in Sandburg's eyes? Or am I looking into a mirror?_ He jerked his head again, and refocused, to see Blair staring at him in concern, a question on his lips, tinges of panic in his voice.

"Jim? Jim! You okay, man?"

Oh, Christ. Was he having hallucinations now? "I--yeah. No. I don't know. Where's the doctor?"

Blair frowned at him and shook his head. "She left a while ago, man. Set an appointment for you for first thing in the morning to talk to her, then left to make rounds. You don't remember?"

"I--guess. I think I zoned."

The dark expression crossing his partner's face increased. "I wondered," he murmured quietly. "Fuck." Long, elegant fingers combed restlessly through tangled curls. "I'm about useless right now, Jim. Can't even see a fucking zone-out. What...what'd you zone on?"

He frowned himself, pursing his lips. "You--kissed me."

"You zoned on that?"

"I don't know." Did he? His confused brain tossed it around. Had Blair actually kissed him? Or had he dreamt it? Or was he dreaming now? He shook his head and growled with frustration, feeling the edgy pacing of a large cat moving through the tunnels of his mind.

Had it actually been a zone-out? Or just another attempt to escape from the realities of the shadows he felt in his mind and could see in Blair's eyes? Ellison frowned and focused his attention on those shadows--the shadows in both of them.

"I'm sorry, man," his partner muttered, bringing him back from those thoughts again.

"For what?" He was genuinely confused.

"For letting you down. I shoulda seen the zone-out..." Blair's voice trailed off and Jim gripped the hand he was still holding tightly.

"Don't, Blair. You're hurting, too. You're --"

"I'm still your guide."

"I'd understand if you didn't want to be around me."

"Would you _quit_ talking like that, man?! Jesus, Jim!" Blair's voice was tightly controlled, and Jim shuddered at the raw emotion barely held in check there.

"I'm only trying to--"

"You're only trying to drive me nuts, obviously." Sandburg pushed his hair out of his eyes again, and Jim found himself helplessly watching the motions, remembering all the times he would watch Blair unobtrusively. Unrequited love, not so unrequited now, but aching just as badly. "Look, man. I need to go find Emily again, and talk to her. I'm...not dealing so well with stuff myself right now. I meant to mention it to her while she was in here, and got sidetracked."

"I'll be okay," he found himself promising, answering the unspoken question in Blair's eyes. "Go on, Chief. I can handle my own company for a little while." _If I have to promise to dance with devil, I will, if it'll take a little of the burden from you._

"You sure?" Dark blue eyes watched him dubiously.

"I'm sure. Go on."

His partner hesitated for another minute, then leaned over him, fussing with the blankets. "Love you," was the quiet whisper in his ear. Jim wasn't surprised to feel a warm, moist press of lips against his forehead as Sandburg dropped a gentle kiss on him. He was surprised by the wave of tenderness that sliced through him. _Love you too, Chief,_ he thought absently, watching as Blair made his way out of the room.

* * *

Blair sat in the comfortable faux-leather chair that was Emily's 'guest chair', here in her private office. She hadn't been a bit surprised to hear his symptoms; rather, she'd been very welcoming and encouraging, to the point of scheduling him an appointment for that afternoon. He'd expressed shock and amazement that she could get him in so quickly, and she told him that she always kept one or two slots open, when possible, for urgent or high-risk cases.

"So," she began in that low, melodious voice, "do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I do...but it's not like..." He sighed and gave her a rueful smile. "I can't seem to even form coherent sentences anymore. I'm -- tired."

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Well, I sleep every night. But I have dreams; nightmares. I see shadows that aren't there when I open my eyes up. I haven't _slept_ since before all this began. I mean, even when it was just a case we were investigating, it was like..." he broke off trying to decide what he meant. "It was like, the more time that passed, and when we figured out there would be new bodies every four weeks or so, we both started getting way stressed. Jim was more stressed about it then me, but it was...gruesome...the shit that done to those guys." Blair swallowed hard, realizing that he'd very nearly been one of those guys. "Damn."

Emily watched him closely and he began to remember why he didn't care for psychotherapy.

"I almost _was_ one," he said quietly, his throat feeling a little thick. "I mean, dead. As it was, I was...I mean, we had to...I didn't..." A quick look down at his lap to the hands he was kneading with each other, then back up, fixing his gaze on a book behind and to the right of Emily. "I'd never been with a guy...sexually, I mean. And Jim wasn't...I mean, he was rough, but not because he wanted to be. And those women...they...when it was time to...retrieve the...the seminal fluid..." His face flushed at the same time he cringed a little bit. He was still healing, nearly two weeks after the fact.

"What else, Blair? Get as much out as you can; we'll sort through it and put it in order afterward. Just get your feelings and thoughts out in the open."

"I don't know," he whispered. "There's so much in there...I have dreams all the time, but I can't ever remember what they were about; I wake myself up screaming, totally terrified of ...something. But when I try to remember what it was, my mind just goes totally blank. I feel like I can see shadows all around, everywhere. Like my mind is filled with these shadows."

"Do you know what's in the shadows?"

He shook his head.

"Have you ever tried looking?"

"I'm -- afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Of what I might find in there."

"Would knowing what the shadows are be worse than seeing them and not knowing?"

Blair cocked his head and stared at Emily for a long moment. "You're awfully sneaky."

She smiled at him. "It's my job."

* * *

The shadows were the scariest things, he decided later. The memories themselves weren't pleasant, but the things that his mind had decided to do with those memories, creating the shadows that had been plaguing him relentlessly now for day after day after day... It was those that he had to deal with.

Emily admitted that not too much could be recovered and dealt with sufficient in a 50 minute session, so she scheduled him for four sessions a week. Jim would be doing therapy several times a day, every day, plus group counseling. When they were further along in their therapy she wanted to do some counseling with them together. 'Couples counseling', she'd called it, smiling. Blair knew there was seriousness behind that, and he was relieved and thankful that they'd managed to get a doctor who not only wasn't homophobic, but was going to actively help them work through things.

They had talked a little bit too about Jim's condition. As long as the older man was still drifting in and out of his fugue states, Blair would continue to be listed as Jim's guardian, which meant that, barring specifics in therapy sessions, he would be included in briefings on Jim's mental and physical status.

His brain was filled with odd musings as he slowly made his way back to Jim's room. It had been a god-awfully long day, and it was only 4:00. He wasn't looking forward to going back to the loft; always big and empty when Jim wasn't home, right now it seemed monstrously cavernous, filled with all of those shadows that were haunting him.

_"Think about your shadows, Blair. They are what you need to purge. Think about what is causing these shadows. Write about them. Learn about them. Own them. Then we'll work on setting you free of them."_

Emily's voice bounced inside his head at the same time a person turning the corner bumped into him. In the process of nearly having a heart attack, Blair realized she was very right. He had to exorcise these shadows before his mind degenerated any further. Besides, he was tired of living with fear and sleeplessness. Enough was enough.

Jim was dozing when he walked into the small, private room, and Blair smiled to see how young -- how _innocent -- _he looked, sound asleep like that, the worry lines lax on his face. The younger man sat down in the chair next to the bed, and shifted restlessly, trying to get comfortable. He watched Jim, noting the shifting, fleeting expressions moving over the older man's face, and wondered what his partner was dreaming about. _I wonder what his shadows are about. If he even knows. He talked about them briefly earlier; asked me to help him, to anchor him. How can I be a good anchor when I'm adrift, myself? I really hate this. I can't believe I missed a zone-out today! Or was it? Was it a zone, or another lapse into that fugue state? I really don't like second-guessing what's going on with him._

He shook his head to clear it because this was just going to lead to looking at his own thoughts, and he really wasn't ready to do that yet. It was bad enough talking about some of that earlier with Emily; now all that shit was stirred up again, bubbling around merrily. He shuddered as his mind threw one image up at him: large hands strapping him down to a cold, metal table and spreading his legs, of a long, pointed hollow object moving slowly toward him--

"Blair?"

The sleepy voice made him jump, grabbing at his heart. "Oh, Fuck! God, Jim...you scared me..." He panted slightly, trying to push the image from his brain. Oh, God! "Um...how're you feeling?"

Jim frowned at him. "'Kay, I guess. I didn't mean to startle you--"

He laughed uneasily. "Don't sweat it, man. Everything startles or scares me these days. I...it's worse right now, I think, because I've just been talking with Emily. Everything's kinda stirred up, y'know?"

Another frown, and a large hand inched out, then paused just before touching his where it rested on the rail of the bed. "Your heart was...pounding," the bigger man murmured. "I could hear it in my dreams. At first I thought it was the drums from that damned ceremony, but then I realized it was too loud. I had to see what it was."

Blair closed the distance between their hands, sighing quietly. "Oh, man. We're a pair, aren't we? Both of us fucked up royally."

A small smile creased Jim's tired-looking face, and light blue eyes raised to meet his. "That's us. Partners in all things, I guess."

"Are we? Partners in all things?" He met the confused look with one of his own. "I guess...I'm looking for a little... Ah, fuck it." He gave the detective the biggest smile he could conjure up. "Hey, you feel like getting out of bed for a little while? I can get a wheelchair, take you for a spin." Blair shifted to get out of his chair.

"Wait." Jim's voice was still a little hoarse, and the fingers that gripped at his were weak, but there was an underlying strength there--maybe desperation? "Blair--wait."

He sank back into his chair, heart hammering, waiting.

"I just...God, Blair...you have to know...please," that hoarse voice whispered. "Don't...leave me. I'm just...I don't..."

He tilted Jim's face up toward his. "Do you love me? That's all I need to know, Jim. I just need to hear it...the rest will work out." He stared into Jim's eyes, his own seeking the truth. Sky-blue eyes glittered with silvery tears, casting an odd shadow over them. _Enough with the fucking shadows, Sandburg! _"Jim?"

"...yes," was the hoarse, broken whisper. "I don't have that right...but God help me, I do."

Relief, nearly crushing in its intensity, poured through him, and he squeezed the larger hand holding his tightly. "You have every right," he whispered, a little hoarse himself. "You have every right in the world, Jim. Nothing that happened can change how I feel about you. _Nothing_."

"I wish I could... God, I hate this...I _hate_ that I caused you pain...that _I_ hurt... It shouldn't be like this. We should be free to love without shadows."

Blair eased a little closer, and rested his forehead against Jim's, meeting the troubled gaze of his friend--his lover. "We will be," he breathed softly, taking Jim's answering breath into his own body. "It's like a rainy day right now, but the sun's gonna shine again, man. I promise. Do you believe me on this?"

Jim's eyes closed, and Blair felt an answering sob in his throat when a lone tear trickled down the chiseled face at the same time Jim nodded. It wasn't much...but it was a start. And at this point, he'd take any headway, no matter how small.

* * *

Chapter 19

"And the Truth will set you free."  
\--_John, 8:31-32_

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring stupidly at the shoes he was supposed to be putting on, not quite able to concentrate enough for the final step. Jim was coming home today! After four weeks, eleven days catatonic and another eighteen days spent in physical therapy and intense psychotherapy, Jim was finally coming home. Blair was nearly sick to his stomach, he was so excited.

And scared. _Mustn't forget that,_ his brain whispered. He hissed at it to shut up, and tried to gather his thoughts back up. It was hard, because the fear was a very strong thing within him these days. Jim had asked him to stay back, to leave him alone for a while, while he worked through some of his issues. God, that had been like having his heart ripped in half. But he'd done it. He'd stopped by every few days to make sure Jim didn't need anything, but otherwise had left him alone, as asked.

He'd been busy as well, for those eighteen days. His therapy hadn't been _quite_ as intense, but certainly intense enough. _At least I've banished some of the shadows; hopefully for good._

That had been the hardest part: looking at the shadows, and admitting what they were. The most difficult one had been just a couple of days ago; he was still reeling from the impact of that. Blair stopped trying to put his shoes on and simply sat back, staring at the wall as his mind wandered.

Dredged up from depths he hadn't realized he'd had. _'What did you fear or hate most about what happened, Blair?'_ Emily's questions were hard, and purposeful. He'd thought about that one every day, at least once and usually more. It was hard to pick just one thing as 'the most'. He'd hated or feared everything about it--with the exception of the moments with Jim, as his lover.

_Man, did Emily pounce on that, when I phrased it that way._ Even in his still-reeling brain, he could see the irony; could sense the twisted humor to it. Jim, as his lover, versus Jim as the man who was supposed to sexually assault and violate him.

_But I was always willing._ Willing for Jim, if not the women. He was scared, though. And deep down inside himself, in a place so dark and tight he hadn't realized its existence at first, then had tried to deny said existence; in such a place he'd found lurking the phrase, _he should have been able to prevent it. He should have stayed in control._

He blamed Jim.

Deep down, subconsciously, maybe, but the blame was there. Blame he didn't feel he should be placing. He explained to Emily until his throat was raw that Jim _couldn't_ have stayed in control, given what the cultists were doing to _break_ that control. Jim had been loving, and kind, and tender when he could be; he'd cared for Blair and comforted him, and tried to protect him. So why did Blair blame him, when rationally he _knew_ Jim couldn't have prevented anything?

_'Because more than just your head is involved here, Blair.'_ Emily's voice was clear, even now, days later. Oh yeah. His head, his heart, his emotions. Nothing was left out of this one. So why was it that he was able to _know_ that Jim hadn't hurt him on purpose, and that he could get past it intellectually; hell, he'd gotten past it emotionally, for the most part. It just kept popping up in his dreams, as a shadow. A dark, sinister shadow, determined to eat his soul.

_Jim's suffering far, far worse than I am,_ he'd said to Emily. _Why is it I can't seem to let this go? What the hell do I need? He's already feeling so guilty over it; I can't tell him this--it would tear him apart._

Her suggestion that he forgive _himself_ was nearly as hard-hitting as the original discovery had been.

_'You're human, Blair. You're going to seek to lay blame where your heart wills it, not your mind. And that blame isn't always going to seem fairly placed. Maybe cutting yourself a little slack wouldn't make the world end.'_

That was very hard to do, because it seemed unfaithful, disloyal, and totally unfair. The hell with it seeming to be fairly placed. He wanted to purge this from his soul, his heart, his mind. It shouldn't be there. Jim was NOT to blame! He'd done the best he could do in a very bad situation, none of which had been his making.

"Ugh." His voice startled him out of his musings and he glanced over at the clock on his desk. It was a little past ten. Jim would have his therapy at eleven; his own was at noon. Emily had said that Jim would be discharged then, and ready to go, after their individual sessions and a meeting she wanted to have with both of them. There was no point in getting there too early. When Emily scheduled something, it stayed on that schedule unless heaven itself opened up and interfered. And as bad as he wanted to see Jim, he was feeling so damn awkward suddenly that he didn't know which way to turn.

_Stupid, Sandburg,_ he remonstrated himself. _You didn't think that a magic wand was going to wave and everything was going to be okay?_ Well, maybe the part of him that still wanted to believe in fairy tales had hoped that. He reached back down to the floor for his shoe and tried again. _Get dressed. That's the best place to start._ Mind still plagued by shadows and demons, he bent his head to his task, hoping that routine would carry him on this one.

* * *

The view from the room was nice. Funny, he'd been here for a month and had never noticed. Of course, he'd been catatonic for a quarter of that, and buried in misery for the rest...

Jim Ellison drifted closer to the window and let his eyesight wander. There were white caps on the waves, and further off in the distance he could see the brightly colored swatches of canvas heralding sailboats. There was innocence out there; waves of turquoise and aqua and emerald slipping together, glistening in the sun, topped with white foam that was reminiscent of the foam on a glass of milk from a soda fountain. Soft, innocent, comforting imagery. An angry twist of his wrist closed the blinds, cutting off his view. He didn't need to see innocence; he'd stared it down and destroyed it.

In the back of his mind he could hear Emily's quiet, patient voice speaking to him. Some days it was good; he appreciated the little grounding she'd helped him achieve. Other days it was ill received; he felt like a child being reprimanded. Today felt like one of those days. He wasn't receptive to anything right now but his own pain, his own shadows, his own demons.

The biggest shadow and demon would be here in a couple of hours to take him home.

Even now, if he thought about, if he let the image fully into his mind, the idea of going home terrified him. How could he trust himself there? At least here, in the hospital, if he were taken with the urge to toss Sandburg onto his back on the bed and...and... Fuck. He couldn't even finish the formation of that thought--the idea of doing it was too hideous. But if he couldn't finish the thought...what was he so afraid of?

Voices whispered to him; voices long ago silenced; buried so deep he'd forgotten their existence. Voices that Emily's poking and prodding and insisting had woken, leaving Jim floundering to deal with their cries.

It seemed some days that he was making no progress at all. That no matter how much he and Emily talked, he couldn't get past the different layers of pain that lay concealed. The core to it all, to his way of thinking, was the way he'd hurt Blair. He held himself guilty as charged; why couldn't anyone else see it? And now the voices added their cries, wailing at him of past horrors; of things he had been helpless to control then, as he was helpless to control this time.

But he shouldn't have been helpless. He shouldn't have lost control.

He sat down in the chair next to the window and opened the blinds again, this time seeing not the aqua-blue of Cascade Harbor, but the black and shadowy interior of his thoughts.

* * *

Emily looked bright-eyed as always, and Jim envied her the settled, peaceful air she exuded. There had been a time when he'd been fairly peaceful, as well. If he concentrated, he could almost remember it. He gave her a tired smile in answer to her greeting and settled into the empty chair.

"Still not sleeping well, are you."

_She doesn't even have to ask; all she has to do is look at me and she knows._ "Not very, no," he admitted quietly.

"I'm a little concerned that the medication I prescribed this last time isn't doing a better job. I can adjust the dosage again, but I don't know how beneficial it is to you to keep messing with the levels." She steepled her fingers and cocked her head, her gaze warm and concerned.

He shook his head. "I don't think it's going to make much difference," he offered in a low voice. "Meds aren't usually very effective with me."

"I've noticed," she said dryly, her voice laced with a wry humor. There was a long pause, then she gestured randomly, drawing his attention from within himself. "Looking forward to going home today?"

"I don't know, Emily." He got back up out of the chair. "Do you mind? I can't--sit--right now."

"Go ahead."

"I want to go home, but I'm -- scared of it. You know what my fears are. I don't want to hurt him. I _can't_. It would be..." he hesitated, the reserved part of him standing back in disbelief as some of these words tumbled from his lips. "It would kill me. If I hurt him again."

"Why do you automatically assume you're going to hurt him? I know you are _capable_ of violent actions; we've discussed that. But violence as a necessity for work is far, far different from violent sexual actions--which _is_ what you're talking about."

Again, she didn't ask, she stated like she knew. And Jim didn't have any doubts but what that was the truth. He nodded and whispered, "because I did it once."

"Did you enjoy the sex you had with Blair?"

The abruptness of the question threw him off-guard for a moment and he blurted, "yes," then realized what he'd said. He closed his eyes, waiting for the recriminations to begin.

"That bothers you, doesn't it. Tell me, is it the _sex_ part of it, or the fact that you had to do so under less-than-ideal conditions, with at least part of you forcing some of it?"

"I--" Ellison stared at the small woman behind the desk, his eyes reflecting his admiration of her sleuthing skills. "You'd make a good detective," he said finally, smiling weakly. She chuckled.

"That's part of my job, Jim. Now, answer the question."

"I don't... I _liked_ the sex...but...at the point I was at, I wouldn't have cared who it was. As long as I got relief." He stared down at his hands, feeling mortified to the depths of his soul at sharing this.

"Jim." Emily's voice was very gentle, understanding. "Jim, it's okay. This is between you and me. Trust me--I'm not shocked, surprised or offended. I'm not here to make judgments. I'm here to listen, and help you sort things out."

He blew out a breath of air and closed his eyes for a moment, then resumed his pacing. "I wanted to have sex with Blair. I--love him...was attracted to him...for a while. Long before we were ever kidnapped and forced to--do what we did. I tried to...get him ready. He didn't...he'd never had sex with a man before, and I wanted him to...to...know what to expect. And it was so beautiful..." Jim slowed his pacing for a moment, looking inward and seeing back to that first night when he'd held Blair in his arms and gently stroked and kissed and caressed him. He shook his head and smiled tiredly. "I wanted to make love to him. I did the best I could, that first time. I know he didn't enjoy it as much as he could have, but he did it enjoy it some. The first time, um, usually hurts, a little bit.

"After that, though, they kept giving me the injections, and increasing the amount. And I could feel my control slipping a little more every time they shoved the fucking needle into my arm! And it got to the point where I didn't care who I was with--I had to have release. Whatever it was they were giving me, it made my blood--burn. I _know_ there was no way Blair could have enjoyed it...and afterward, it made me ache to think that he wasn't getting any kind of...but during, I couldn't help it. As bad as I knew it hurt him, I still..." his voice dropped and he swallowed hard, "I still enjoyed it. Enjoyed the release."

"You enjoyed the relief it brought you, but not the act itself."

"Right." Clenching his hands into fists, nails biting into soft tissue. Pain of the physical kind, he could deal with.

"Did you enjoy any of the sex with him just because it was with him?"

He turned away from Emily then, his face hot, his skin crawling. This was so personal, and so painful, and he knew in his soul that if he didn't get it out it was going to poison him forever. His voice was hoarse and gritty when he forced the words out. "I...liked all the cuddling we did. And the kissing...and once...one night...I gave him...pleasure."

"Would you like to do that again? Give him pleasure? Receive it yourself, from him?"

Jim moaned softly and scrubbed at his face with his hands. "I'd like nothing better," he responded raggedly. "But I can't take the chance. What if..." he whirled around, eyes hot and scared. "What if that beast is still in there? The drugs unlocked it--how do I know it's gone? I swear I can feel it prowling around inside me, wanting out."

"Jim, the beast was there all along. Without the drugs weakening _you_, he's powerless against your control. We _all_ have a beast within us; some of us aren't as aware of it, but it's there in every one of us. Things happen sometimes to lower our control, and it gets more power, but when the control is re-established, it hides again."

"And if something makes me lose control again? What then? I hurt Sandburg again?"

"There are no absolutes in the world, Jim, but how likely is it that the circumstances that brought about your loss of control are going to be duplicated?"

"But something else," he pressed. "I can't chance it!"

"So are you telling me you're willing to throw away the relationship you yourself said you've wanted for a long time, because of something that may or may not ever happen?"

"Oh, God... Shit." His voice was a ragged whisper. "I don't want--that. I _need_ him, Emily. He's my other half. It's like...we're bound together by...things I can't even explain to myself. But I can't... I don't want to hurt him again."

"Okay, Jim. Relax a little bit." He looked in confusion at her and she gestured to the fists he still had balled up at his sides. "Take a couple of deep breaths. Try to relax. You're not going to get anything worked out if you're too tense to concentrate."

He smiled briefly at that and forced his body to let some of the tension go. "You sound like Sandburg. He's always telling me to 'breathe and center'."

"It's good advice. It's all too easy to tense up, and much harder to relax. Breathing exercises and guided imagery for relaxing is a good way to go. I want you to work on practicing that daily, not just in here." She paused for a long moment, watching him, and Jim felt like he was naked; all of him exposed to that calm, piercing stare. "You were hurt by them, too."

Ellison blinked at the topic shift, then shivered again, his right hand drifting down to touch his abdomen. "Yes."

"Tell me about that. What was it like when they hurt you?"

He circled the office restlessly, unable to stop, because if he did, the memories would grab hold and never let go of him. A hard swallow pushed most of the lump choking him down, but it was still hard to breathe, hard to talk. "I--hated it. The physical pain--that wasn't that bad. But...I couldn't--"

"What couldn't you do, Jim?"

He stopped and gripped the back of the chair tightly; looking down he saw his knuckles were white with the effort. "It was a...an invasion. Body, mind, spirit...they barged in on all of it... I--couldn't--stop it. I couldn't stop it from...happening. They threatened me with Blair's safety if I didn't cooperate; then they made me violate that and hurt him, even when I did cooperate."

"Jim, the drugs they gave you were powerful hallucinogens. When you arrived at the hospital you were a borderline OD. Do you think you should have been able to function in spite of that?"

He drew a ragged breath and tried to calm down a little bit. "No...yes...I don't know. It was my job...my duty...to protect us. To protect him! I'm a cop...I should have...shoulda been able...to...to do that, regardless."

"Sometimes we find ourselves in situations where we can't help, no matter how much we want to. Do you think you would have been able to protect Blair if you hadn't been drugged?"

He would swear later that he could almost _feel _something breaking loose within him during those moments. "I don't know...maybe...not. But I wouldn't have felt... I couldn't _help_ him...see? I was... oh, God... I was--" he shuddered, trying to draw air in, to make his brain still work in spite of its desire to shut down, "--helpless. I couldn't... I was...out of control, and helpless, and hurting him, and I couldn't make it stop, and I HATED IT!"

His voice was almost a roar echoing in the small room, and his fingers ached from their tight grip on the chair. He didn't dare let go, because right now that grip was the only thing holding him up. There were voices speaking inside of him; cries clamoring to be heard. Some of the voices he recognized as his own and Sandburg's. Others he thought he recognized, but wasn't sure.

Emily was watching him closely. "How do you feel when you think about losing control of yourself?"

His body went tense; his voice was tightly controlled. "No."

"No, what? What do you mean, Jim?

He held himself stiffly; there was danger here, in this line of questioning. Danger in considering what she was asking. His voice was hoarse, raw. "I don't lose control. I can't lose control. It's too dangerous."

"Everybody loses control sometimes, Jim. We just discussed this. The beast within all of us. So what is it that's scaring you about that? What would happen if you did?"

Christ, he had to get a grip on this before it got the better of him. _But it's too late for that,_ his mind whispered. He took a deep, ragged breath; one last attempt to rein himself in. "You KNOW what happened! I took the best friend I've ever had; the man I love more than anyone else in my life, and fucking RAPED HIM!" He panted, trying to pull air in, trying not to lose the tenuous grip he had on these emotions inside him. His eyes stung, trying to hold back tears of anger and hurt and frustration. "And that man...he's sitting out there in that little fucking room that you call a waiting room, waiting to talk to you about it, hurting from what _I_ did to him...and you ask me what would happen?"

Emily gave him a moment to catch his breath and regain a little of his equilibrium before launching the next attack. "Have you ever lost control before, Jim?"

_Maintain at any cost; remember what the cost has been when you've let go even just a little._ Ellison tensed his jaw; heard the grating noise of teeth grinding together. "I _told_ you I don't. It's too dangerous."

"Do you think Blair blames you? For losing control, for not being able to stop what happened?"

_Oh, man. Please stop. I can't do this anymore. Don't make it worse--I already can hardly hear over the voices screaming inside me..._ His voice was very quiet. "He says he doesn't."

"And you don't agree with that?"

Jim shook his head. "He _should_ blame me. I _know_ he blames me. I can see it--I can see the shadows in his eyes. I _know_ those shadows, because I put them there." He paused and settled back into the chair. "I know what he says, but I know what I see."

"Why would Blair lie to you about that?"

Ellison cradled his head in his hands and sighed. Jesus, his head hurt. What was it about these sessions that made his head hurt so bad? "I...he wouldn't lie to me...but he might not _tell_ me, because he doesn't want to make me feel worse... I know what I did...I hurt him...let him down...so he must blame me. He has to."

"He has to, because _you_ blame yourself, and it makes it easier to justify? Or because you really think that he has reason to hold you responsible?"

"I don't...know. God, this is hard..." He swallowed, his voice coming out in a thin, ragged whisper. "Both...I guess. I don't know. I don't _know_."

"Okay, Jim. You said he wouldn't lie to you, and you believe that. But you also believe that he might blame you, and not tell you?"

He made a small choking noise. "Yes."

"Who do you think Blair would blame for this, if he's not lying, and he doesn't blame you?"

The hand he raised to wipe at his face shook. "He _has_ to blame me!"

"Why, Jim? Why does he have to blame you? Isn't it possible that he blames the people who kidnapped you and forced those drugs on you? The same ones who threatened his safety for your behavior? That hurt him outside of anything you did?"

He couldn't look at her any more. His eyes stung when he closed them. "But I was the one...it was me who...who--" he shuddered, and cleared his throat, his voice hoarse when he continued, "I swore to him at the very beginning that I wouldn't hurt him. That I would get him out of there...then they did that...gave me the drugs, and I couldn't... I...lost...he says he doesn't blame me...and he might *think* that...but deep down, he has to...he _has _to."

"Think about who Blair is, Jim. He knew you were being injected with drugs. He saw what they did to you. Do you think he blames you for something he knew you couldn't fight, couldn't control?"

"I don't know." Jim's voice was ragged, tired. "I don't know anything, anymore. I'm tired of all of this -- of not being sure, of being angry, scared, frustrated."

Emily watched him for a while, her lips pursed slightly. "After Blair's appointment, I want the three of us to talk, together."

He nodded stiffly, doing his best to bring his heart rate and breathing back under control. "I'll be in the waiting room. Let me know when you're ready for me."

Emily nodded, and Jim shivered lightly, feeling her eyes on his back as he left the room, his brain spinning.

* * *

Sandburg was paging through a magazine, zealously studying the ads. He glanced up when Jim sat down next to him, his eyes warm and welcoming, if a little shadowed. Jim hesitated just a moment, then reached up to stroke an errant length of hair back, tucking it neatly behind one ear.

"I've missed you," he said quietly, letting some of his longing bleed into his words.

"Missed you too," Blair's heart rate accelerated when Jim leaned closer and brushed a gentle kiss over his forehead. The magazine dropped from nerveless fingers, and then those fingers were gripping Jim's shirtfront, holding tightly as they huddled together, Jim's arms going tightly around the smaller man.

"Emily wants to talk to both of us after you're done," Ellison whispered, watching as his breath stirred small, springy strands of hair. He focused in on one for a moment, seeing the kinks and curves of the tiny, nearly transparent strand. "I don't know... God, Blair. I can't--" he pushed himself back from his partner's embrace, his actions almost panicked. "Go, talk to her. Go on, please."

"Jim--?" Blair hesitated, concern and uncertainty on his face, in his voice. He reached for Jim, frowning when the older man pushed backward in his chair.

"Please--go. I shouldn't have... Just go on, Blair. _Go_!" The last word was hissed almost frantically, and Blair backed away, his eyes wide.

When he was safely on the other side of the door, Jim covered his face with his hands and let out a shuddering breath. This had to stop. He couldn't panic every time he touched Blair. They'd never be able to have a relationship this way. Several deep breaths helped him regain a small measure of the control he so desperately wanted, along with some much-needed insight. _There's no way in hell I'm ready to go home yet. And as scared as he looked--he's not ready for me to be there, either._

Both thoughts chilled him.

* * *

_What the hell is going on with him? With me?_ The thought stuck, and wouldn't go away. All he could see was the panic in Jim's eyes; the desire for him to get as far away, as fast as possible. And the desire within himself to do just that.

Blair shook his head. Admitting to himself, and to Emily, that he held Jim responsible, however illogical it was, had been hard enough. Dealing with the repercussions of admitting it was something he was going to have to do now. He could feel all his emotions bubbling within himself; the primary ones right now were nervous energy and confusion. He'd never felt so confused in all his life.

_I wanted to kiss him and love him; I wanted--want--to hit him, hurt him...hate him. I love him, I can't hate him! But I can say it was his fault? Can those coexist together? God, it's not like I was taken out on a date and raped or anything...what the hell is my problem?_

He smiled an absent greeting at Emily as he moved into the small office, and flung himself into the visitor's chair, pushing his hair back nervously. "Hey, Emily."

"Hi, Blair. Big day today. How're you doing?"

He shook his head and gave a nervous laugh. "I knew you were gonna ask that, and I was-- Ah, man. I was fine, mostly, until five minutes ago."

"What happened five minutes ago?"

"I saw Jim." He winced at the emotion contained in those three words, and Emily's observant eyes didn't miss it.

"Take some deep breaths and relax, Blair. Tell me what happened."

The younger man leaned back in the high-backed leather chair and closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself center, drawing on the calm that was there, if in small quantities right now. He drew in several deep breaths and sighed quietly, not even opening his eyes to talk. "I'm so hyped, and so nervous right now, Emily. I want Jim to come home...and I don't. I'm feeling so many things; I can't even sort them all out right now." He opened his eyes to stare over her shoulder at the book-lined shelves. "I was so glad to see him, out there," he gestured toward the door. "But it was--well, good, but kinda weird. We both--dunno, panicked, I guess."

"Panicked, how?"

"I don't know... Jim hugged me, then shoved me away. And for a minute, his eyes were so--odd--it kind of scared me, I guess. I was glad to get away from him."

"Are you afraid Jim will hurt you again?"

"He didn't hurt me before," Blair replied sharply, glancing up at the therapist. "I know--what I've said. But I still believe he didn't _hurt_ me. Not on purpose." He took a deep breath. "I spent the morning thinking about...what we talked about last time...about me blaming Jim. I was putting my shoes on...and just--my mind was just *there*. It's like this...this big shadowy spot in my brain. All those shadows...and I can't see around it. I can't do it, Emily. I can't blame him...and I do blame him...and I hate both of us for it. Shit." He glanced down at his hands, noting idly that they were worrying the edge of his shirt. With a conscious effort he let go of the fabric and looked back up at Emily.

"Do you really blame Jim? Consciously? Or are you just angry at him that he didn't--or couldn't--stop what was happening?"

Blair grimaced. "Isn't being angry and blaming him the same thing?"

"Maybe...different facets of the same stone. Are you angry? Do you blame him?"

The grad student sighed, shifting restlessly in his chair. "I don't feel like--like I do, but then there's this stupid voice inside me that keep screaming at me that if he'd just hung on it wouldn't have happened...which is *bullshit*, because there's no way he could have hung on...I mean, I was _there_, man. I watched what they did to him. I lived it with him! talking him down, comforting him, I _know_ he couldn't have stayed in control. So why can't I shut up that voice inside me?"

"Blair, do you think there are parts inside us we can't control?"

Sandburg grimaced. "I...guess. I'd never really thought about it. Y'mean like when we say we're not going to do something, and we do it anyway? Not being in control of a part of ourselves?"

Emily's eyes met his, cool and calm. "Maybe. What emotion do you feel most prominently, right now, when you think about what you and Jim went through last month?"

Slightly bitter laughter echoed around him. "Oh, man. I don't know, Emily. I don't know if I could narrow it down to one.....but I guess... Anger. Total, complete anger."

"What makes you angry when you think about the whole situation?"

"Man, the way we were treated, manipulated, _screwed over_. I mean, yeah, I found the love of my life," Blair's voice dropped, and the bitterness was a palpable thing, "except he's so fucked up right now he won't even let me come visit him... We were forced into having sex with each other, and even _though_ Ifound Jim, I'm pissed as _hell_ that I didn't get the chance to make that discovery myself... I feel like...everything that was good, and happy, and sane in my life was just tossed out like so much garbage. And it makes me angry. No, actually, it's more than that...but I don't have a word for it. I'm not _used_ to feeling like this. And I don't like it--its bad karma. This much poison is killing me, carrying it around." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't like it, and I don't know how to get rid of it."

Emily was silent for a moment, giving him a chance to regain his equilibrium. "No one would deny that what you went through was terrible. And Jim was a part of that, wasn't he? I mean, in a very direct way."

Blair nodded. "Yes. From all angles, in all ways. I mean, even at the very beginning, it was his case to investigate, and I'm his partner, so I got involved with it through him... And then it just snowballed...and...shit. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the curls back and forth restlessly. "See, this is what I don't get. _How_ could I blame Jim? He got screwed over worse than I did! All I had to do was lay there and well, y'know. Take it, basically. He was the one being messed with, and injected and tortured...hurt. Threatened. Made to hurt me. So what's the problem? What's *my* problem?" His chest was heaving a little from the emotions. God, this hurt. _Why's it hurt so bad? Is there truth to that? Do I really blame him? I can't deny the shadows, but God, c'mon. I saw it all._

Emily was staring expectantly at him when he looked back up at her. "What?"

She smiled slightly, a warm, comforting smile. "I'd like to try something. I'd like you to think about what this would have been like if it hadn't been Jim who was a part of this. If the person you were with had been a stranger. How would you feel then?"

He shuddered, hearing his own voice echoing in his head. _Promise me, Jim. Promise me you'll kill me before you let anyone else--_ "Oh, man." His voice dropped to a raspy whisper. "Emily...I don't think I'd be sane right now. I...in the very beginning of it, when _she_ first told me what would happen to me...and when Jim and I were discussing it...I...asked Jim to kill me...before letting anyone else touch me. I -- could handle it -- kind of, knowing it was him...but not-- His voice trailed off, the soft words leaving a ringing silence in their wake.

The therapist leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk, her voice and manner open, comforting. "We spend a lot of time in here talking about what Jim went through, Blair. The reason I asked you to think about this experience without Jim is to see how you feel. Do you feel that Jim was more a victim than yourself?"

The grad student shifted uneasily. _I don't like this. I don't want to answer this, it's not going to be good._ "I...don't know. Maybe. Yeah. I mean...shit. Yeah."

An understanding nod in his direction. "Were you both forced to do things you didn't want to do?"

Blair nodded back, his eyes closing as he whispered. "Yes." _I can't even begin to tell you the humiliation...the hurt...all of it. Just don't have words for it._

"And it makes you feel angry. When you get angry -- about other things, about more day-to-day things -- how do you usually approach it, Blair?"

He had to think. Anger was pretty much an unknown for him, most of the time. "I go for a walk, sometimes, and think things through, or I meditate. I do that a lot anyway, actually, but it helps me kind of center and focus, and I can deal with the problem."

"How do you feel about getting angry? In general?"

Blair shook his head, a little confused. _How do I feel about it? How the hell do you have an emotion about another emotion?_ "I don't like it. Like I said--negative energy. I try not to...try to talk things out with people. I'm pretty laid back generally; it takes a lot to really get me angry." He smiled slightly, lips curving with remembrance. "Even Jim can't usually grouch me into anger too often. I mean, I get there sometimes...but I don't like it. And this." He shook his head again. "I feel...dirty, almost."

"What do you do if you're angry but there is no way to talk it out with the person or situation you're angry with?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. Wait for it to go away...the anger I mean. I guess...I don't get angry that often."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Do you see anger as a bad thing?"

He gave her a sickly smile. "I...guess...not. But it makes me...kind of uncomfortable. I don't like it. Like I said--I feel dirty, or unclean."

Emily nodded, then asked, "Can we try something, Blair? I'd like to do a little role-playing. You feel up to that?"

_Sure, after weeks of putting me through the emotional wringer._ He gave her a quizzical look, then nodded. "Uh...sure, I guess."

"All right." Emily was suddenly very brisk. "And I want you to remember that if you feel uncomfortable, we'll stop right away. Okay?"

"Okay." _Why do I know I'm not going to like this? I don't even know what she's got in mind -- though I have a fair guess -- and I know it's not going to be pleasant._

Emily gave him a concerned look, and not for the first time he wondered if she read minds along with everything else. "Blair, I'm going to play the part of Chardis. And I want you to look at me and tell me what you're feeling right now. Say anything you like."

The shakes began in his legs and moved upwards, filling his body like chaos filled his mind. He wondered if there were any other words in any other language known to man, or at least to him, that could have this sort of instantaneous effect on him. "Oh, man. Oh, god...I don't even know..." He glanced over at the small woman and whispered. "This is...hard. I'm...angry...but scared. Ohgod...I can't even...word it. So much--" he broke off again, unable to finish the thought.

Emily's voice was calm and gentle. "She can't hurt you, Blair. She can only sit and hear what you have to say. You're completely safe."

_Completely safe. Sure. That's why she reaches for me in my dreams every night._ A longing for sleep, undisturbed and unencumbered, rose over him. "There's so much negative emotion there," he said finally, his voice a little hoarse. "So much with _her_... I want to know...what gave her the right to fuck up our lives? I wasn't...like this... I used to be happy, and do things, and see people...and now I sit at home all day because I'm too fucking scared to go outside just in case she's _out_\--"

Emily interrupted, gesturing to get his attention. "Tell _me_, Blair. I'm sitting right here. Tell ME."

He swallowed, determined to do this. "In case she's out there, which is stupid because she's --you're -- DEAD! I ... Why?? Why'd you do it? What'd we ever do to you? Who gave you the authority...the RIGHT to take us, and fuck up the best relationship either of us ever had...the best friendship we had going... our lives..." his eyes closed involuntarily against the pain washing over him as the memories and his voice gained strength. "You hurt us... tortured HIM... changed both of us into something we weren't... made him hurt ME... and just because you wanted to get pregnant? There's usually a reason that people can't have babies...and you're a prime example of why sterility isn't a BAD thing!

Emily's voice was soft. "How does it feel to tell her this, Blair?"

He opened his eyes for a moment. Hers were calm, and calming. "It's...good...but it...hurts." He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking a little in the leather chair. "I don't like it...the emotions are so strong. It's hard."

"Anger is a hard emotion, Blair. It's very strong, often damaging, if you don't let it out and deal with it. _Deal_ with it, Blair. Right here, right now. What are you angry about?"

He rocked a little faster, huddling in on himself. "So much," he whispered. "Tired...angry...sick of shadows where there aren't any; sick of shadows in my mind. I'm tired of not sleeping; of not being able to go anywhere for the fear that's hanging around me like a cloud. I'm sick and tired of wanting to see Jim and not being able to do it, because one or the other of us can't handle seeing the other, _always._ I'm--angry--that my right to choose when and where I gave my virginity was taken from me. It's not like I was specifically saving myself, but it would have been nice to have the option of saying to Jim, 'I love you, baby, and you're the first and only'. I _know _he had it anyway...but it's the principle. I wasn't given a fucking _choice_!" His voice rose to a sibilant whisper, hissing almost viciously. He choked once as the darkness filled his mind, the shadows looming. "I hate you," he said louder, to the room at large, then again, his voice rising. "I fucking _HATE_ you!"

"Who do you hate, Blair?"

"Chardis! Serita! The little shit who was our nurse-maid." His jaws clipped shut on each syllable, nearly spitting them out. "Myself."

Emily caught the pause. "Who else," she prompted very gently. Then stronger. "Blair--who else. Who do you hate? Who are you angry with?"

A single tear trickled down his cheek and he wiped it away as if it were burning acid. "Jim," he whispered in a thick, hot voice. Misery turned his eyes nearly to obsidian. "God help me," he continued, his whisper brittle enough to shatter, "it's just..._there_."

"Feels like it's going to consume you, doesn't it?"

He nodded, wiping at his face. Inside, he felt like his heart was breaking. _Jim...Jim, I'm sorry, baby! I tried to fight it...I can't help it. I don't really hate you, but there's a part of me that hates what happened...what you did to me, and I can't stop it. It's like a run-away train; too big to handle, too heavy to hold. God, what would this do to you, if you knew...? I'm so, so sorry..._

"Blair?"

"It feels like--" he swallowed, his throat nearly raw with the emotions choking him. "Like betrayal, Emily. Jim didn't do anything but what he was made to do; I know he's not to blame...but I...do. Blame him. Oh, God..." He buried his face in his hands, unable to stop the groan of pain. Not sobbing, precisely; he didn't shed tears. But the shakes consumed him until he wasn't able to distinguish up from down.

"Blair, I know this is going to be hard to hear and harder to do, but I want you to listen to me." Emily's voice floated in to him, borne on a fresh wave of pain. "Blair?"

He nodded jerkily. "I'm--listening," he said softly, his voice ragged.

"Feel the anger, Blair. Acknowledge it, give it a name. Accept it. It's okay to be angry. You're not hurting Jim, or betraying him."

"It's hard," he offered quietly.

"I know it is." Emily's eyes were warm, compassionate. "But you need to accept it before you can let it go. You don't want to hold on to it; that's counterproductive. But you need to know it's there, then deal with working through it."

He nodded, then took a deep breath. A tight clench of his fists together to keep them from shaking so bad. "I'm--angry." He sucked in another lungful of air, hating this. _This is on the fucking level as the torture Chardis subjected us to._ "I'm angry...with Jim...over...what happened," he whispered finally.

* * *

They sat side-by-side in matching chairs; friends who'd been lovers; lovers who'd become strangers. Neither one looked at each other, but neither one looked away. Emily watched them both, carefully, before speaking.

"Jim, do you think you're ready to go home today?"

Ellison jerked in surprise, then threw a quick glance over to his partner. Blair's face was frozen in a rictus of surprise. He turned his eyes back to Emily, hesitating only a moment. "No." His voice was quiet, certain.

She nodded, apparently not surprised. "Blair--how about you? Are you ready to have Jim home today?"

There was a long pause, then an indrawn breath that signaled a response. Jim shivered at the naked emotion in his partner's voice when Blair spoke. "I-- No." The word ended on a wistful sigh.

She obviously wasn't surprised by Blair's answer either. Another pause, then Emily's voice again, calm and steady. "Do the two of you understand why you're in here together? As much as you both still need individual counseling, you also need to start healing _together_. Trust, anger, betrayal, love, hate, fear...you're going to be dealing with all of these emotions, gentlemen." She eyed each of them in turn, catching their gaze and holding it for a moment. "You both have issues pertaining to sex, and each other, that have and still need to be dealt with; now you're going to need to start addressing those together, as well. Jim, I'm going to keep you in here one more week. During that time, we'll continue therapy the way we've been going, three times a day, plus group. In addition, I want you to spend time each day with Blair, both supervised, and alone. Do you have any problems with that?"

He swallowed, considering his options, or lack thereof. The man next to him trembled, and Jim heard the increase in heartbeat. He shook his head, then rasped. "No. No problem."

"Good." She turned to Blair. "I want you in here daily for a therapy session, and I want you to do group as well. I'll get you set up before you leave here today; the Victims and Survivor's meeting is held on Tuesdays at 1:00pm. I recommend that one, but if it doesn't work, there are others. We'll try 'til we find something that does. In addition to that, is of course, the time with Jim, supervised and unsupervised. Are you okay with that?"

The heart rate sped up again, and Blair swallowed harshly before nodding. "I am," he offered quietly.

She nodded. "Good. In addition to all _that_," this time her eyes twinkled just a little, "I want you both in here, together, twice next week. We'll set up those appointments as well, before you leave. Satisfactory to everyone?"

For the first time since Jim had come in after Blair's session, the two men turned and looked at each other, nodding to the other before nodding to Emily. She smiled.

"You two are making good progress. Both of you. I know it doesn't seem like it, some days, but you survived a tremendous ordeal. Healing takes time, both for body and mind. The spirit often takes even longer." She paused. "Let's get your appointments set up, so you can get out of here for today."

It didn't take long; Jim's dailies were already scheduled in, as were Blair's. They quickly settled on times for the others remaining, and Emily bid them a good day, reminding Jim she'd see him at four that afternoon. He sighed, but smiled, this time not so tired, almost genuine.

At the door he paused, then turned to Blair. "Want to get some coffee in the cafeteria?"

Blair smiled hesitantly. "I'd like nothing better, man."

 

Continue in Part Eight


	8. Miracles

Chapter 20

"Where there is great love there are always miracles."  
\--_Willa Cather_

 

Even the key turning in the lock grated on his nerves, jarring his hearing. Jim winced and dialed down again, drawing a frown from his younger companion.

"Again?"

"Yeah." His voice was quiet, but still seemed to ring loudly in the hallway. "I can't seem to keep it dialed down."

Blair's voice was very carefully modulated. "Your system is fucked, Jim. You've had more chemicals pumped into you in the last six weeks or so than any human being deserves to suffer through. We'll get you straightened out, man."

Jim laughed awkwardly. _More than my system is fucked...but we know just how bad all of it is, don't we._ "You sure about that, Chief?"

In lieu of the more intimate names he couldn't quite bring himself to using yet, Jim had fallen back on the nickname he'd graced Blair with on their first meeting. It was said with a different inflection these days though, that generally brought a smile and light flush to the younger man's face, just like now. Sandburg placed a warm, gentle hand on Jim's arm, fingers curling inward in a light caress.

"I'm sure, Jim." There was a wealth of promise and meaning in those three simple words, and Jim felt his breath catch in his chest. Then Blair was pushing the door open, the tiny creak where the hinge caught because the door was slightly uneven proclaiming this to be _home_, even if the familiar scents rising up to greet him hadn't. Blair's face was alight with pleasure, soft shadows still remaining in his eyes, but none as insurmountable as some that had recently been banished. "Welcome home, big guy," he said softly, moving through to gesture Jim into his home. Their home.

_Home,_ Jim thought with more than a passing satisfaction. It seemed like it had been forever. In truth, it had been nearly seven weeks since he'd been here. He moved slowly into the loft, eyes darting everywhere, taking it all in. _God, I missed this place. It feels safe here. I don't sense shadows lurking everywhere._ He walked around the living room, then down the hallway, pausing outside Blair's bedroom, then back into the living room. His partner was in the kitchen, water on the stove to boil. He looked up, amusement clear in his eyes when Jim paced again.

"You look like a tomcat trying to decide where to piss to mark its territory," the younger man murmured in a low, rich voice. Jim had to smile.

"The whole damn _place_ is my territory," he said with conviction. "I just need to re-establish that."

"Yeah, right, whatever you say." Blair fell silent after that, making their tea with quick, economical movements.

Jim paced near the front door, then paused, sniffing. He walked away, then back to the door again, sniffing audibly now. "Sandburg, why do I smell blood?" He moved three steps back, then forward again.

"Cock's blood," Blair said quietly. Jim turned to toss him an inquisitive look, and Blair shrugged good-naturedly, but his eyes remained serious. "I had a white magick ritual done here, Jim, to purify and cleanse us. The blessing requires the blood of chicken -- a cock -- to be shed."

"At the front door?" Jim had halted his pacing, listening to Blair's tale.

Another eloquent shrug. "Technically, when blessing the house, the animal is killed, then buried as the foundation is laid. That would have been a bit tricky, considering the foundation is pretty implanted...so I improvised."

"Improvised." Jim's echo of the word prompted another shrug from Blair.

"It seemed right, man. You weren't here. You--" The younger man broke off as he visibly tried to quell that line of thought. "Never mind," he finished quietly. "It was just something I wanted...needed...to do."

"I'm not criticizing," Jim offered as an awkward apology. _Dammit! Couldn't just leave it be, could you, Ellison._ His inner voice had a snottier tone to it these days, and he ruthlessly shoved it down, hesitating indecisively in the living room, not sure what to do. He wanted so bad to go to Blair, and offer an apology, comfort him. But he felt frozen to the spot. He swallowed hard, and forced himself across room to halt in front of his friend. "I'm...sorry," he said quietly, reaching out one hand to touch Blair's shoulder. "Really."

Sandburg looked up, his eyes changing from indigo to smoke-blue and back again. "Thank you," he said, just as quietly. There was a momentary pause, then Blair lifted his own hand up to touch Jim's, giving it a light squeeze. "I'll make some dinner," he murmured. "You go...pace. Walk. Whatever you need to do."

Jim squeezed back once, then nodded.

He moved restlessly around the loft for the entire time it took Blair to make them tea and fix some sandwiches. He went upstairs twice, opening drawers and doors, just checking things out. He felt a little silly, but even with Blair's shocker of the white-magick ritual, he had to make sure things were safe he. He didn't feel safe, completely; still wasn't totally sure that Blair would be safe with him. But after over five weeks in the hospital and psych facility, he was ready to be home.

Simon had visited a few days before to bring them--Blair was with him at the time--word of the inquiry into the deaths of Chardis and Serita. The cavern where the two men had been held had been excavated at the Mayor's orders. Nearly three dozen bodies had been found, including those of the women in charge of Jim and Blair's captivity and torture. They'd been found buried beneath piles of rock and gravel, in a small chasm that had opened in what had been the ritual chamber. Both women's necks were broken, and nearly every bone in their bodies was crushed.

Thinking about it now, Jim still got strange prickles dotting up and down his spine. Little cold fingers poking at him. He didn't remember anything of their escape from there. What he knew he knew because Blair had told him.

_Retribution? Justice? Aren't they the same thing? What about revenge?_ He shook his head. Thinking too much about any of this still made it hurt. He'd finally broken down and asked Emily about it a couple days ago, and she said some of it was suppressed or repressed memories; still more of it was probably a psychologically induced, physical reaction to the stress and trauma he'd gone through and witnessed.

"Jim? You okay, man?"

Blair's voice jerked him back from his mental meanderings, and he turned from the window he'd been staring sightlessly out of. "Fine, Chief. Well--I guess. Yeah, I'm okay."

His partner gave him an odd look, then shrugged. "C'mon, Jim. I know it's not a lot," he gestured to the sandwiches and soup on the table, "but it beats the hell out of what they were giving you."

Ellison sniffed the air to compliment what his eyes were showing him. Homemade vegetable-barley soup, thin-sliced roast beef piled high on sourdough rolls, with crumbled blue cheese. He knew without even tasting or smelling further that the sandwiches would have a unique dressing on them that he'd never totally guessed the ingredients of, and that Blair steadfastly refused to share, citing that 'everyone needs one secret recipe'. Without realizing it, his stomach rumbled; the first time he'd been truly interested in food in far longer than he cared to remember.

"Looks--and smells--good, partner," he said quietly, moving to the table. The smile that lit up Blair's face was beautiful to see. He was surprised when the younger man handed him a steaming cup and a handful of small pills. "I thought I was only taking the Zoloft?"

Blair nodded. "These are just vitamins, and herbal supplements, babe." His voice was low, gentle. "The tea is raspberry and goldenseal, to help cleanse you and draw out the worry; the pills are Echinacea, garlic and a B-complex. We need to boost your immunity and get you on your feet, man. You were pumped full of poisons when we were kidnapped, and then again at the hospital. I can understand and accept some of it, but the doctors should have let you cleanse yourself, too."

"Are you doing this?" Funny, it didn't even occur to him to argue. He tossed the capsules back and swallowed with a huge gulp of water.

"Yeah. I've been doing it for a couple of weeks now. I needed to do something, to feel like I was making an effort."

"Does it help?" He rolled his tongue around in his mouth; the garlic had left an aftertaste.

"So far, yes. I'm taking a few other things too," Blair's eyes crinkled when he smiled, Jim noted absently, watching his partner closely, "but I didn't want to overwhelm you all at once."

"Good move, Sandburg." Jim's stomach rumbled again, and he reached for his spoon.

* * *

They spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in companionable, if somewhat awkward silence. Emily had told them repeatedly, separately and together, that it would take time before either felt fully comfortable with the other. They'd spent a few hours a day together at Ocean Side, but often it had just been watching TV, or reading while one or the other napped. They hadn't done a lot of talking, save for in therapy sessions. That would come with time, as they grew used to each other again.

Blair turned the TV on for the early news, then sat down on the couch next to Jim, shifting closer than he'd sat all evening. Ellison barely had time to catch his breath from the nearness when Blair's hand slipped over his, slender, strong fingers twining with his. He felt his body jerk a little in surprise, then heard Blair's quiet sigh as he started to pull away.

"No, it's okay." He tried a smile, to reassure, but wasn't sure it worked. His face felt frozen. "Really. Leave it."

"You sure?"

Jim considered, then nodded. "It--you just caught me by surprise, I guess." He inclined his head, indicating their hands. "Feels nice."

"Yeah."

Blair's voice was low, and a little breathless. Jim heard so many things that weren't being said; that couldn't _be_ said yet. He sighed and shifted minutely, situating himself a little closer, then trembled with suppressed excitement and fear when Blair shifted as well, and rested his head on Jim's shoulder.

"Blair, are you sure it's safe?" His voice sounded as breathless as if he'd just run miles uphill.

"I trust you, Jim."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"Yes, it was." Blair moved his head, turned to look into Jim's eyes. "Safe and trust are the same thing, babe. You need to learn to trust yourself again. Don't worry," he added, as Jim was about to speak, "we have time. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you're ready."

_Oh, God, what did I do to deserve you?_ "Promise?" His voice was hoarse, his throat tight.

"I swear, Jim. I love you, man. I'm not going anywhere." Blair's voice was soft; his eyes--the love shining in them--were softer still. Jim took a huge gulp of air when his partner shifted closer, brushing a gentle kiss over his forehead.

There it was again, that urge to take his partner, to make them lovers again. To show him how good it could be; to give him pleasure until they both screamed from it. He shuddered, unable to reconcile those feelings yet with the need to keep Blair safe. _Please God, let me get over this. I love him; I want to show him. I want to be with him. Please, give me strength._ He licked his lips. "God, I wish--" He stopped and swallowed. He could do it. He could say it. It would mean so much, and to be able to say it again-- "I...I love you," he finished in a ragged whisper.

The blinding light in Blair's eyes was enough to send weakness through him, centering in his knees. For a moment he was glad he was sitting because he knew his legs couldn't have supported him at that moment. He opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but unable to make the words come.

"It's okay, Jim. I understand." Blair scooted down a little and rested his head against Jim's shoulder again. "It's enough, babe."

_But what happens when it stops being enough?_ He wondered wildly, then shoved that thought down into the far reaches of his soul, determined to just relax and enjoy the sensation of warmth resting against him.

* * *

They sat through the news, both a little stiff but neither willing to leave the closeness of the other. They had discussed sleeping arrangements at Emily's urging, and were going to keep separate beds for now. Neither was real happy with it, but neither felt ready to sleep with the other.

When he caught himself nodding off for the third time in ten minutes, Blair finally shifted uneasily. "I hate to, but I gotta go to bed, man." His face was drawn into a frown. _I don't want to leave you when we're finally able to relax, even a little bit, together._ Jim nodded.

"I'm getting tired, too," he said quietly. "Guess it's time for bed, huh."

"Yeah." Blair nodded and yawned, his body urging him toward sleep. He wasn't sure why; it wasn't like he slept well. Maybe tonight would be the one different night. He hoped every night, though it hadn't happened yet. With a quiet groan he shifted himself from Jim's side and stood up, his body shuddering as he stretched. He felt Jim's eyes watching him and smiled shakily. "This is awful, isn't it. So--awkward."

Ellison nodded. "I hate it," he said very quietly. "I know Emily said it'll get better, but I still--it hurts. To remember--what it was like..."

"And to know that no matter how good it gets, it won't be the same." Blair finished the thought for him. _It will be great when we're there, and ready for it...but I'm always going to miss what we had, and wonder what it might have been like, if we'd found each other on our own._ Jim still sat on the couch, his body a little stiffer. "You sure--about sleeping apart?"

Jim watched him for a moment, his lips compressing tightly. "No," emerged as a thin, high-pitched sound. "But I'm not sure--if I can sleep--together."

_I hope the bitch is burning in hell for this. For Jim, for me, for what she did to us._ His own lips compressed, bits of anger still floating about within him. It would take a long time for the anger to burn out completely, but at least it wasn't directly aimed at Jim any longer. He drew a deep breath and extended a hand. "C'mon, man. Things'll look better in the morning."

Jim took the proffered and pushed up from the couch. "You believe that?" There was a trace of the old Ellison in those words.

Blair smiled, a little wistfully. "I keep telling myself that. That every day will be a little bit better than the day before it. That the anger will go away, and the pain will ease. I have to believe it will, Jim. I _have_ to. Anything else is, well, unthinkable."

His roommate nodded thoughtfully, and Blair found himself wishing he could read Jim's mind. Could know what was going on inside that brain of his. He yawned again, then gave Jim a hesitant smile. It was returned, mostly. Dammit. This was beyond awkward, this was awful. He opened his mouth, but Jim beat him to the punch.

"Go to bed, Sandburg. I don't even need Sentinel sight to know you're about dead on your feet. I'm gonna get a glass of water, then head up myself."

_I've been about dead on my feet for weeks now. How come you're just now noticing it?_ He regretted the thought instantly; it wasn't fair to Jim to be assigning blame when the older man was just now becoming part of the world again. But then, had it been fair when he was the sole support system for both of them? There seemed to suddenly be a yawning chasm in between them. He startled when Jim's hand touched his cheek, a single finger smoothing along his jawbone. Wide, sky-blue eyes regarded him silently when he looked up. Light blue, the color of a summer sky, that held so much love, and so much sadness he felt his own eyes sting briefly.

"I'll work through it all, Jim. Don't worry. As long as we can do this together--"

Ellison nodded. "All the way, Blair." Another finger joined the one touching him, and stroked his cheek before moving away. "Night, Blair."

"G'night, Jim."

* * *

This was the worst yet. His first night home, and he couldn't sleep. Too tired to stay awake; too scared to close his eyes. Why scared? Because Blair was close, again? Or because Blair wasn't close _enough_? When would things start feeling normal again? Would they ever feel normal?

He climbed into bed, aching desperately for what had been; wondering what would be. Could they get past this? They had to. He had to. Whatever the next steps were, would have to come from him. Blair had held the burden of their support for long enough on his own, and while neither was operating as the sole source of support now, what they had was very new, very fragile. There were a lot of strong emotions free-floating right now. It was scary, and exhausting, and he wanted so badly for it to be over--the healing, everything. He wanted to be free to hold his partner, to take him in a lover's embrace without the shadows that were looming over him constantly.

Jim let his tightly reined-in hearing wander a little; downstairs Blair was rustling and moving--probably getting ready for bed. Images flashed through his mind of the week plus that they'd slept together, huddled against each other on a narrow bed. Not even for the sex, but taking and giving comfort.

_Rustle._ Sandburg shifted. There was a quiet sigh, then a soft grunt, then silence for a moment.

_Rustle_. Sandburg shifted again. Another sigh, then a low cough, then more shifting. The barest of whispers floated up to him. "...damn...", carried on waves of pain and loneliness and longing. Much like what he was feeling.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could do the same with his ears. As long as he heard Blair, he wanted to go to him. Wanted comfort; wanted to give comfort. They were both hurting, they needed each other. Wasn't that what Blair had been saying all along? That they needed each other to heal. He shivered as a shadow tripped across his mind, and in the darkness he saw the black hole of that shadow waiting for him. Loneliness. He ached with it. It was frightening, how alone he could feel right now.

And the thing that was scaring him the most, that could also be his healing, his salvation, was less than 100 feet away, shifting restlessly in his own bed.

Jim got up and stood at the top of the stairs for a long time, just listening, trying to decide if this was the right thing to do. He shuddered at the thought of being alone with this all blackness still moving inside him. The first step had to come from him. Blair wouldn't approach him; he knew how torn up Jim was over everything that had happened. Could he do it? Just--go, get in bed with him? A memory of laying with his partner, cuddled against him, stroking him, moved through him leaving a gentle warmth in its wake. A warmth the coldness in his soul was crying for. He took a deep breath and headed down the steps, very quietly.

From his vantage point just outside Blair's room, his partner appeared asleep. It was a restless sleep, judging from the tossing and turning and shifting, and the quiet moans that filled the air from time to time. Jim stood and watched, aching with the need to hold and be held. _He needs me as bad as I need him._ He wondered how long it had been since Blair had slept well, all night long. The fact that the door was open, a soft light still burning in the living room, and the bathroom light still on down the hall was indicative of a good many things. _Maybe kids aren't the only ones who hear and see things that go bump in the night._

He could still feel Blair's arms tight and strong around him; could feel the strength in the lean, compact body he'd held and loved. A need to hold him again, to know that he was loved and accepted, rose so strong in him he nearly sobbed out loud with it. Before his brain could process what he was doing, his legs had led him slowly, hesitantly, through the open door to Blair's bedside.

He'd barely made it over the threshold when the younger man shifted, his heart rate and breathing changing, accelerating. The smaller figure pushed upward, peering toward him. "Jim--?"

"Its--yeah, it's me, Chief." Was that hoarse, husky voice his? He could almost hear the tremors in it. They matched the ones sweeping through his body. Blair's breathing evened out with his affirmation.

"You okay, babe?" The quiet voice was sleep-fogged, but loving.

He paused for a long moment, not sure how to answer. Was he? He swallowed. "I--need--" Shit, this was hard. Because admitting it meant that the walls were coming down, and that left him vulnerable. "I need to feel you," he finished, more harshly than he'd intended.

There was a brief silence, then a low, breathy sound that could have been a sigh. He couldn't tell what Blair what thinking, despite the light that illuminated his face. Then the shadows and light across his face shifted, and Jim saw only welcome, a need for the same thing. "C'mon in," Blair whispered softly, rolling back to his side and scooting inward to make room for the bigger man.

Jim skinned the covers back carefully and slid in, his breath coming in shallow, harsh pants of nervousness. He stopped, frozen, when Blair shifted, certain he was going to be told never mind, go away. When his friend had stilled but for one look over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised in question, Jim finished getting in. Slowly, very slowly, he moved toward the warm figure, slow tears leaking unheeded from his eyes. He wound his arms around Blair's waist and pressed their bodies together, chest to back, the dark curly hair catching the silvery drops as they fell.

"I love you," he whispered very softly. A quick breath, and his voice came again, "I need you."

Blair pushed back against him, closing the space between, his hands coming round to hold Jim's, anchoring them together. "I love you too," he whispered just as softly. "And I need you more than you'll ever know."

"I know," Jim said quietly into damp curls. "I see it--in your eyes." His arms tightened as Blair sighed and relaxed fully back against him. He hesitated for a moment, then brushed a gentle kiss across the back of Blair's neck. His partner murmured a quiet noise of approval and snuggled closer. The warmth that radiated through Jim had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love and safety. There were no shadows here, just love and light.

He buried his face in the warmth of Blair's neck, and, holding him tightly, slept.

* * *

It was the first morning in far, far longer than he cared to remember that he woke up slowly, feeling rested. His wake-ups for the last six weeks generally left him feeling panicked, scared, out-of-control and exhausted. Blair stretched very slowly, the hard body behind him shifting a little to accommodate, but not moving or relaxing its grip on him.

_No dreams. No monsters. No shadows of what was. Just warmth. Delicious, widespread warmth._ He'd never felt so comfortable. The hands shifted a little, rubbing gently over his chest, smoothing and stroking. With a low sigh, Blair stretched slightly, arching into the comforting touch, nearly purring with delight. It felt good to be touched again.

The hands never left his chest and stomach; the touch never became more than comforting, but he knew the exact moment when Jim woke up fully, because the hands froze in place on him and the breath that had been stirring his hair gently ceased for a long, painful moment. He stroked the hand curled in toward his ribs and smiled, though he knew Jim wouldn't see it. "It's okay, Jim. It felt nice."

"It did?" The older man was still frozen against him, his fingers twitching like he wanted to jerk away. Blair was thankful for whatever was keeping that from happening.

"Yes, it did." Blair shifted, pushing back against his partner. "I liked it." _And I don't want you to stop. Not now, not ever._ There was total silence behind him and Blair sighed as quietly as he could manage then wiggled. "Can I turn over? I'd--like to see you."

"Yes." Jim's whisper was thick, hoarse. Blair rolled away, shifting onto his back, then his other side. He left a little distance between them, thinking Jim would be more comfortable. To his surprise, the older man shook his head jerkily and shifted closer toward him. "Don't--go. Please. It felt--so good to hold you. I need to hold you, Blair." Light blue eyes stared at him, and underneath the shadows that lurked within, Blair could see the need and love. He could see the Jim Ellison he'd known before.

"I'll never go, babe," he whispered back. This felt so good. So right. He moved a little closer and breathed a shaky breath when Jim gathered him against his chest. _Oh, God. I didn't think he'd ever hold me again. It's been so long. God, whoever... Thank you._ He let his arms move around to return the embrace, nuzzling gently against Jim's neck, breathing in the warm scent of his partner.

A soft sound met his ears and he shivered when he realized it was Jim; it was a low-pitched moan; not exactly pain, but not precisely pleasure, either. Like a pressure release from a wounded, healing soul. He reacted to it, because he felt the same within himself. Blindly, instinct driving him because if he thought about it, he'd never be able to do it, he kissed Jim's neck, then moved up to brush an easy kiss over the tense, narrow lips waiting there.

At first Blair thought the kiss would be rejected, then Jim's mouth softened under his, lips meeting lips easily, fully. A quiet whimper rose around them, and Blair's head spun when he realized he didn't know which one of them made it. He shuddered and drew away for just a moment to catch his breath, then leaned back in and moved his mouth over Jim's again. To his surprise the other man let his open somewhat, and Blair moaned into it when he tasted the love and longing there. Jim's tongue rose hesitantly to meet his and he shivered violently within the circle of arms holding him.

One kiss ended and melded into another, then another, then yet another. When both men were breathless and whimpering Blair drew back enough to give them space to breathe. Jim's face was flushed and he looked a little dazed, a little confused. A ghost of a smile moved across Blair's face when he looked closely, because Jim's face was mirroring what he felt inside. A large warm hand rose to touch his mouth hesitantly, and he kissed the finger stroking his kiss-swollen lips.

"You've got the bravest, most beautiful soul," Jim whispered, almost silently. "I don't know--would I have been brave enough to do that?"

"When the time's right, you will," Blair promised, kissing the finger again. "We're doing things according to what feels right to us; what will feel right when we do it. I couldn't ever have climbed into bed with you, Jim."

"I needed to--"

"And I needed to kiss you. Connect with you. And it was...it was good, wasn't it." Blair's voice was a little breathless, low and husky.

"It was great." A slow smile stretched Jim's mouth and he felt a chuckle rise up from within him when Blair echoed the smile. "It felt fucking great, Sandburg. Scary as hell, but great."

They stared at each other for a long moment, eyes glowing, lips smiling.

The sun chose that moment to shine through the windows.

* * *

Reality wasn't as great as that first morning. They spent a lot of time dancing awkwardly around each other, and for every step forward, it sometimes seemed as though they took at least that backward.

Physical intimacy was one of the back steps. He'd been home for nearly two weeks now, and they were no further in that than they'd been when he first walked in the door. Or rather, not at his initiating. Blair could kiss him, snuggle to him, rub and cuddle him. And he'd give right back...but he couldn't start it, dammit! He couldn't get past the little voice in his head that kept insisting he'd lose control. Why it made a difference if Sandburg started it, he didn't know. Deep down he knew he was using that as an excuse for the absolute, paralyzing fear he felt whenever he thought about just reaching out and *touching* Blair--but he needed to make the excuse, at least to himself, for now.

He hated that change in their relationship, more than anything else that had happened. No matter how close they got lately, snuggling, or enjoying a few kisses, things weren't the same. Never would be the same. Everything, he acknowledged reluctantly, had changed a little bit, but that one area had suffered the most.

_At least some things haven't changed all that much_, he mused, looking around at the bustling activity of the bullpen.

He'd been cleared to go back to desk duty. In another week or two he'd start weapons requalification, and retake his physical training tests. Meanwhile, he could begin working on the paper angle of cases, and re-orient himself.

Simon was insisting on half-days for now, while Jim slowly reacquainted himself with life and police work again. Blair had gone back to school yesterday, to try and pick up the pieces of his academic life. His teaching load had been reassigned, because he'd been off for too long. He was even now negotiating with the Dean and the members of his committee, and the board about how that would affect tuition, and how the missed time could affect his dissertation. _The worst of it is, we can't even tell people why we're so fucked up--not the real reasons, anyway. Yeah, sure, we were kidnapped and tortured...but that's not generally enough to send folks into catatonia...or is it? And Blair...he's gonna hurt for a long time_. Jim glanced down at his desk, idly tracing the letter "B" on his calendar. They were both going to hurt for a long time. He could still feel the pain from when Blair said that he was angry with Jim; that he blamed him. He understood; hell, _he_ blamed himself. And he knew what Blair meant--it wasn't a conscious thing, or even a total thing. But the part of Blair that had been hurt so badly by the one who'd sworn to never do that--that part needed a focus.

He understood that. But it still, two weeks later, hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. And some of that pain was fueling the need for absolute control over himself. Unlike before, when it was a "I have to stay in control because" situation, small lapses he could tolerate, so long as no one else was around when it happened.

But this... He shook his head and moved on to trace a "J" over the other letter. He absolutely couldn't lose that control again. And there was a war waging inside him right now, wanting Blair so badly: to touch him, to love him, to give him pleasure; then the other side that insisted he keep up a distance, a barrier, because he couldn't hurt what he didn't touch.

Except that the touching gave them both such pleasure--both sexual and non-sexual. _Not that sexual has been much of a concern lately. No matter how good it feels, I can't seem to find the 'on-switch'...not for real, anyway._ That worried him, too. He found Blair physically attractive, hell, some nights when they were lying together, wrapped around each other, he wanted him with a hunger that seemed to burn through his soul. But he didn't react, physically, and he could see hurt mixed in with the understanding whenever Blair looked at him.

He looked up when Simon's voice rang out, calling his name, grateful for the distraction. He spent too much time in his head lately. It was good to be back to work, to spend some time doing something besides so much introspection.

* * *

The phone quit ringing just as he ran through the door, spilling groceries from the paper bag, and dropping his backpack.

"Goddamn--" Blair snapped his jaw shut on the curse and bent to pick up the dropped grocery items. At least nothing had broken. A strange shimmer caught his vision and he blinked, aware on some level that there'd been some strange time shift for a moment. Oh, not a physical one. Within himself. He straightened and set the bag on the table, then looked around, remembering the first time he'd walked in here, how the bareness of the place had been nearly overwhelming.

His eyes moved slowly around the large, airy room, taking in the changes that had been affected since that day, and considering the further changes wrought in the last two months ago.

_Two months ago I was half in love with Jim, and wondering if there was any chance in hell. Wondering if it was what I wanted. I was still fairly ignorant of sex between men, at least from the personal experience angle. I was totally clueless about Jim's preferences. I was a virgin._ He snorted at his own thought, laughing aloud then when the visual of a virgin, innocent Blair whapped upside the head. _Okay, okay. Not a virgin, but I'd never had a guy inside me before. Why am I hung up on that? It's not like I was 'saving' myself, particularly. And it's not like Jim didn't have it...Fuck. _He sat down on the sofa and looked around. _I used to fantasize about making love in front of the fire; about kissing and cuddling and loving all night long, upstairs._ They hadn't slept upstairs since Jim came home.

_I had the dreams, and the reality is that I'm scared of my own fucking shadow; Jim is so messed up he can't even get hard when I stroke and kiss and rub. I know he hasn't jacked off once since he's been home; I doubt he was doing it in the hospital, either._ A frustrated sigh welled up, and he jerked in surprise when several hot tears dripped down his cheeks. _It's not just about sex, though God knows I want to try that again, too. It's--everything. I want to be his partner in all ways. He says he loves me; I can see the emotion in his eyes when he looks at me. Is it me? Am I doing something wrong? Or is he that afraid of losing control again? What if I showed him that he wouldn't--and if he lost it a little, it'd be okay?_ Sandburg wiped at the tears on his face and got back to his feet, an idea beginning to form in his brain. He wasn't ready for penetrative sex yet--not mentally, anyway-- and he had the feeling that Jim would run screaming in the opposite direction if he tried anything too intense yet. Maybe there was a way, though, to relax his uptight partner, and make him see--let him see--that the physical could be good, too.

* * *

The loft smelled good. Jim could smell the herbs as he got off the elevator. _Some kind of potpourri,_ he decided, sniffing. Nothing too sweet, nothing too strong. No sage, thank god. Just a warm, homey kind of smell. The kind he associated with Blair.

It was dim inside, he realized, as he set his keys down and hung up his jacket. The shades were drawn against the early night of autumn, and the single light burning was turned on low. He sniffed deeply, taking in the scents. Candle wax. Smoke. A quick glance over toward the fireplace confirmed the last; a glance upward confirmed the first when he saw the glint of candlelight shimmering off the windows upstairs. And threading through all this was another, gentler olfactory assault: bayberry, a touch of sandalwood, and a bit of something else he couldn't identify readily. He'd called a halt to the herbal testing Blair had starting putting him through early on in their relationship, so he didn't know them all. But it still smelled familiar.

"Chief? You in here?" He knew he was; he had him pinpointed by his heartbeat. But Blair didn't have sentinel hearing, and although he'd probably heard the door open, it was courtesy to announce himself before scaring the shit out of the younger man.

"I'm up here, Jim," Blair called softly to him.

Upstairs. Jim shuddered lightly. He hadn't gone up there, for reasons he still couldn't pin down, except to dress or get clothes. They slept in Blair's bed at night. The narrow bed that reminded him of the bed they'd shared in captivity. _Are you avoiding reality, and trying to fix what happened by making it 'good', in similar recreations?_ That damned little voice again. This time it wasn't snotty though, it was making sense. Good sense. _Was_ that what he was trying to do? He couldn't fix what had happened, but he could recreate--and make it better? A flush of embarrassment ran through him, and for a moment he was rooted to the spot.

"Jim?"

Blair's voice was still low, but held a note of concern. Jim sighed. "I'm coming, Chief."

The bedroom was awash in candlelight. Large ones, small ones, some scented, some not. Jim looked around slowly as he came up the stairs, his eyes taking in the relaxed, easy atmosphere in the room. Blair had plugged in his boom box and had a low, soothing CD with an easy jazz beat playing. The scent of herbs was lighter up here, and he could smell blended oil as well. Blair was dressed in loose sweats and a T-shirt, sitting in a lotus position in the center of the bed. He smiled at Jim as he stepped onto the landing.

"Hi, babe."

"Hi. What's up with this?" _It's different, but kind of nice. Relaxing. I could handle being relaxed._

Blair shrugged. "Just thought we could use a little easy-going relaxation. It was a hell of a day at the U, and I'll bet yours was busy, too." He patted the bed beside him. "Why don't you get your sweats on, and come sit with me?"

"What about dinner?"

"It's in the fridge--all we have to do is warm it up when we're ready to eat. C'mon, Jim. Sit and let's relax. Talk."

_Talk? Oh, God...not more of that. Please, not tonight. Not now. I'm tired, I'm uncomfortable...that makes me too vulnerable._ Some of his feelings must have shown on his face, because Blair sighed, his face falling. _Oh, man, I can't let him down. Not when he's obviously gone to so much trouble. I'm sorry, Blair!_ He stepped forward, hand already jerking at the buttons on his shirt. "I'm sorry, Chief. I don't--I don't know how much talking I'm good for, but I'll relax with you. It sounds good. Relaxing, I mean."

He made short work of the shirt and pants, folding them neatly before laying them on top of the dresser. His sweats were already out, so he pulled them on, leaving his T-shirt untucked, like Blair's.

His partner had laid back and was watching him, and the frank appraisal made him shift uneasily, several emotions winding through him in quick succession. Love, desire and fear. He wasn't sure which one was stronger; love and fear seemed to be slugging it out right now, but desire was close behind.

"I had a thought," he began awkwardly, pulling the sweats on.

"Yeah?"

"What if--what if I'm sabotaging us?"

"How d'you mean?" Blair leaned up on one elbow, watching as Jim made his way over to the bed. He hesitated beside it, then climbed on, shifting over toward Blair. The younger man rolled toward him and put one arm across Jim's waist. "Why would you think that?"

_Mint toothpaste. He smells like mint toothpaste._ Of all the silly, meaningless things he could have thought of in that instant, that was probably at the top of the list. Jim shrugged awkwardly and tried for a smile. "We haven't been--up here--since I got home. I keep us...sleeping downstairs, on that little bed, like **_she_** did, and I don't know--"

"Oh, Jim." Blair's voice was warm, sympathetic and loving. His vision swam for a moment when the younger man moved in closer to him, lips hovering just above his. "Baby, you're not sabotaging anything. You're trying to stay safe. I know, Jim, because I find a hundred ways a day to do the same thing. It's okay, babe."

"You sure?" Jim closed his eyes, feeling the forgiveness Blair was offering wash over him. Was it that easy? To lay down a little bit of the load? Somehow he doubted it, but maybe. At least a little bit.

A gentle hand skimmed down his chest, stroking slowly, deliberately. "I'm sure," Blair whispered into his ear.

He moaned softly and felt himself arch up into the touch. "Blair," he whispered harshly. "Please, baby, I don't think I can--"

"Nothing more than you want, or I want, Jim. Just relax. Let yourself feel everything."

Soft lips traced down his neck. "I'm scared," he whispered, one hand coming up hesitantly to touch Blair's back. "Please, Blair, I don't think--"

The younger man drew back a few inches. "Do you want to just lie here? I didn't plan this as a seduction, Jim. I seriously meant it to just be relaxing for us. Y'know, lay here, listen to the music, just be together."

_How do I tell you this is exactly what I want, but I'm so fucking scared of it I'm shaking inside?_ It suddenly felt like the last two weeks of touching, rubbing and kissing hadn't existed. As if this was the first time he'd laid a hand on Blair since their escape. Sweat beaded his forehead and a low moan flowed from his throat. _Can you feel it, Blair? How much I want you, and how scared I am of that? It's why I haven't been able to give you more of myself. If I get an erection, if I'm aroused, I'm not in control any more. Am I? If I could have stopped myself from getting an erection before, I'd never have hurt you...Oh, baby, I'm so sorry._ "Forgive me?" He blurted, not even aware he'd spoken out loud. Blair's eyes mirrored the shock and pain he felt in his own soul.

There was no hesitation, no stuttering. "I forgive you, Jim. I always have--even when I was angry with you."

The relief that swept through him was nearly crushing in its intensity. Had he asked before? Had Blair refused? No...that wouldn't have happened. Would it? He shuddered with the fierce emotions fluttering around in him. Terror leapt to mind; desire was strong, love nearly overwhelming. Hunger and need, so intense, so ferocious, he wasn't sure his body could contain them. And tenderness. A gentle warmth moving through him at the thought of how much Blair loved him, and how much he loved in return.

Wide blue eyes, the color of oceans during a storm, stared down at him; soft, full lips parted for a gentle whisper. "I want to taste you, Jim. Kiss you...and feel your love. I can see it, y'know. It's in your eyes, on your face...so strong. Can I?"

He watched those eyes darken with the words spoken, and felt himself nod, with no recollection of making the motion. Ellison tracked the downward movement of Blair's head slowly...so slowly...then closed his eyes just as a warm, soft mouth covered his. He heard a moan, then another, and felt warmth move into him as Blair's tongue stroked over his lips, coaxing him to open for him.

It felt so good. Blair felt good, hugging up to him, his mouth making love to Jim's. The bigger man shuddered as hunger licked through him, spiced with love, tempered still by fear. Blair rolled to his side, tugging Jim with him, pulling him tighter against him as their bodies began slowly undulating.

"I want you," Blair whispered into his mouth. "I need you. So bad. I love you, Jim..." The kiss ended when warm damp lips moved from his jaw line and then down his neck, licking and gently kissing. Blair was mapping him, tasting and learning each inch of his body. Jim moaned when that incredible mouth attached itself to his throat, sucking gently on the pulse throbbing there. He shifted against his--lover--and moaned again when his erection throbbed against his sweats.

"I'm hard," he whispered, arching his head back. "God, baby, I'm hard for you--" He shuddered and slowly uncurled his hands from Blair's biceps, moving them slowly up and down the sturdy, strong arms.

"I know," Blair said in a throaty voice, moving back up to kiss Jim's mouth. "I know, babe, I can feel you. Ahhh, Jim...it's so good. You feel so good against me, lover."

"Blair--I want to...but I'm scared..." Jim buried his face in Blair's neck, then pressed his lips lightly to the vein throbbing there. "It feels so good, but I'm so afraid of--of hurting you..."

Sandburg whimpered, the sound echoing through Jim's lips. "Then we go slow, do this right. It's all right, baby. I'm scared, too. Let's just feel, Jim. Let go and feel ourselves." He very gently bit down into the soft skin just below Jim's ear.

A long, violent spasm shook Jim's body and he clutched Blair tighter to him. "Please," he hissed quietly. "Don't let me hurt you." His hips bucked into Blair's, drawing a low moan from his lover.

"Never," Blair promised, pushing his hips forward to meet Jim's.

It was awkward, and clumsy, and easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever done. They'd ever done. Hips moving against each other; hot, leaking erections throbbing as they met and rubbed, even with cloth layers in between, dulling a little of the sensation. Kisses, which were hot and wet, and gentle and easy. Hands moving and touching, sliding against cloth, then under cloth, stroking and arousing. Jim moaned and arched when Blair's fingers slid over his nipples, pulling very gently. Then they were holding each other tight, rubbing with long, frantic strokes, faces buried in each other's shoulder as their bodies soared higher, the tension in them spiraling out of control.

Jim clutched at Blair when that familiar but unfamiliar sensation slammed into him, seizing the control he hadn't loosed in months. He sucked in breath after breath, trying to fill his lungs, to push the sensations down. Blair shook his head and leaned his head in, whispering "go with it!" before taking Jim's mouth very gently, tongue stroking easily as they stiffened against each other, their cocks pulsing behind damp sweat-material.

It was a powerful orgasm that they stroked each other through, holding fast to shoulders and arms, lips touching, then not, as the emotions sent them soaring higher even than the physical was doing. It was frightening, exhilarating, loving, tender, hot and terrifying all at the same time. Jim felt like a roller-coaster might've been tame compared to this, but when Blair leaned forward and licked his tears off his cheeks, he sobbed with unabashed emotion, holding the younger man tightly against him.

"Forever," he whispered, his voice hoarse with the sobs still moving through him.

Blair nodded, his own whisper an echo of the emotions in Jim's. "Forever."

They held each other tightly, dropping slowly into sleep, bodies damp and cooling, and at peace for the first time in weeks.

* * *

It was a typical, crazy morning in the Ellison-Sandburg household; therapy, work, school. Schedules to be met, appointments to be kept. Even the impatience of waiting for his turn in the bathroom couldn't dull the glow that was still spreading through him from last night. Jim grinned to himself, feeling almost comfortable with himself. He checked the clock over the stove again and paced into the hallway.

"Sandburg, I gotta finish getting ready! Aren't you *done* yet?" This felt familiar. Enough so that he heard a low growl in his voice. They had their appointment with Liz in an hour, and rush-hour traffic to navigate.

"Hang on, man," he heard his partner mumble. "I'll be done in a minute."

"What the hell are you doing, anyway? I just need to brush my teeth."

"Well...come on it, then. I'm shaving--but you can share the sink."

Jim rolled his eyes skyward and opened the bathroom door. His partner was indeed shaving, but--  
"You always shave in the buff, Chief?" Wow--did he really sound that hoarse? He averted his eyes quickly, then found himself drawn to stare at the smaller man. It'd been a long time since he'd seen Blair's naked body. Any cuddling they'd done--hell, everything last night--was always under the covers, and either partially, or fully clothed.

"If I haven't had time to dress, yeah." Blair returned his scrutiny through the mirror. "You okay, babe?"

"I--don't know," he responded, his voice sounding rough and gravelly. "I--"

It was something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a while, but which had been resurrected last night. Desire. Toward Blair. He shivered with the intensity of the feeling rushing through him.

"Jim?" he watched Blair turn toward him, a silent question in his eyes, the verbal one on his lips. His lips. Ellison found his gaze drawn there, held there, almost as if invisible hands were holding his head still, forcing his eyes to remain focused in that one spot.

As he watched, Blair's tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Jim felt the intensity surge, like the tide pushing for the shore. A small shudder rolled through him and he moved a little closer, noting almost automatically that Blair's eyes were dilating. A warm, rich, musky smell rose into the air around them and he breathed it in, filling his lungs deeply. Arousal. Was that what it was? His or Blair's? Both of theirs? He reached a hand out to touch the auburn curls flowing loose over strong shoulders, and saw that he was shaking. His stomach tightened, the cold hand of fear clenching it hard, then releasing him. It was like getting kicked in the gut, the strength of the emotion that rushed through him. He moaned softly, then moved forward, closing the small space still left between him and Sandburg. He threaded his fingers through those silken curls and leaned down, covering the lush mouth with his own, gasping silently when warm, full lips opened beneath his, allowing his tongue entry into the warm, moist cavern.

This was it. _He_ was initiating this kiss! He curled his fingers through Blair's hair again, then released it, sliding his hands down to hold the younger man closer to him. It was intoxicating, this kiss. He felt so much--fear, joy, relief, love. So many other things he could scarce put a name to. God, he'd wanted--needed!--to do this for so long. To love Blair back. To give back just a little of what had been given to him.

It felt like a bubble growing inside him. Transparent and fragile, but strong too, and full of hope. Full of potential. Jim pulled back from Blair and framed the much-loved face with his hands, smiling into it. "Its gonna be okay, isn't it." His voice was hopeful, full of love.

A wide, bright smile--that rivaled the sun for its brilliance--shone into his face, deep indigo eyes reflecting it. "It is. It's okay now...and it's just gonna get better."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Jim said quietly, letting his emotions bleed into his voice. He felt so much right now, he couldn't narrow one down, really, but that was okay. He had time. They had time. He gathered Blair closer to savor the feeling of being _able_ to hold him close.

* * *

  
Chapter 21

The world is round and the place which may seem  
like the end may also be only the beginning.  
\--_Ivy Baker Priest_

 

It was the end of a long day, and a longer week. Blair threw himself on the couch, kicking his shoes off with abandon. House rules were pretty much out the window anyway, and though he tried to remember and follow them, sometimes things just called for a little more drama than adhering.

He idly noted the hole in the toe of his sock, then wondered where Jim was. Working late, probably. Two murders, an arson investigation, and sabotage at the local iron-smelting plant. Blair sighed. On top of Jim's schedule, his own included teaching two classes, and taking two. Those were dissertation-related, mostly research, but still required some of his time. He sighed again. Then there was therapy. Twice a week for both of them individually, plus one together. He rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses had left a permanent indent. He was tired. He wanted to crawl upstairs, strip off, and just pass out. Preferably for a month or two, when some of the craziness was over.

_Bed's not as much fun without Jim in it, though._ The odd thought caught him off-guard, and he smiled. Six months ago, hell, _three_ months ago he couldn't have thought that. They'd made so much progress in that time. _Not that there haven't been the downs with the ups._

The first major down had been about a month after Jim kissed him, when Jim started having problems--more than he'd been having--getting an erection. They'd kissed, they'd rubbed, they'd stroked. _He_ would be moaning and panting, harshly rigid and throbbing. Jim, even though he'd be moaning and panting along with him, would be only partially hard--if that. It added a level of tension to their relationship that they didn't need. They were barely coping with what was there.

Emily adjusted Jim's medication levels, telling them that Zoloft frequently caused functional impotence in men who were taking it. The trick was to find a level of the drug that would help keep Jim level, and wouldn't cause such an effect on his physical system.

_And we still haven't found it, since he still has some problems,_ Blair thought with a twinge of bitterness. He hated thoughts that led him back to their captivity and to Chardis.

Which, he admitted to himself, seemed to be anything and everything, some days. Another sigh, and Blair got to his feet to get dinner started. Something that could either be reheated or simmer indefinitely on the stove. Potato-cheese-bacon soup. Not hard to fix, and it wouldn't matter if it simmered for a while. He made his way to the kitchen, mind casting around as he went, not quite ready to let the past go yet.

They'd finally put all the pieces of the cult-puzzle together, and laid the whole to rest. Forensics had done tests of course, when the bodies had been recovered, and the results were followed up on slowly, as time permitted. After all, the perpetrators were dead, so the case was considered closed. Jim and Blair had felt the need for a little more closure than just knowing it was over. Sharon Dister, aka Chardis, was a severely disturbed woman hospitalized after a nervous breakdown when told she couldn't have children. Her cousin, Sarah Collins, aka Serita, had helped her break out of the hospital she'd been in. Mark Dister, Sharon's husband, was their first victim. Seattle police, working in tandem with Cascade PD uncovered his bones, buried in a shallow grave in their backyard. Sharon was raised in the Pentecostal Church; when she made her 'break', it was 180 degrees into the opposite direction. Blair shivered just thinking about it, now. Jim had personally interviewed one of Sharon's sisters, and commented to his partner later on the venom in the woman's voice when she talked about homosexuals, and their evil ways. She couldn't believe her sister would have had anything to do with 'those types of people'. It seemed apparent that Sharon had redirected what was likely extreme homophobia, among other things, to her own purposes.

"Why _us_ though?" Sandburg raised his attention from the pot of potatoes he was stirring, wondering out loud. He'd asked that question so many times over the last eight months. Half the men Chardis kidnapped hadn't been gay, nor desirous of such a thing. _I can't think of her as Sharon. That humanizes her...and she wasn't human with what she did to us._

He still had no answer. Jim didn't have an answer. No one did. It was just one of those things, as Emily liked to say.

It was working out though. Slowly, with a lot of hard work on their parts, they were starting to recapture the essence of their relationship before all this had happened. They were more at ease now, more comfortable with each other.

He stirred the soup and tried to push away uncomfortable thoughts; to relax and enjoy the knowledge that it was Friday, and they had the whole weekend off, barring something unforeseen.

_Maybe we could go camping. Fishing. Something away from here, for a day or so. Do some tests on Jim's senses. They've never been the same as they were before--I'd like to chart some of the differences_

'Wiggy' was how Jim generally referred to them now. He'd never quite gotten control back over his hearing; the dials that had worked so well before didn't work for shit now. Touch and taste were the only two not badly affected; the other three had been pushed so far out of whack by the drugs that Blair was surprised some days that they worked at all. _I wonder how much of that is hallucinogen-related, and how much is trauma-induced. His own little sentinel version of PTSD._

He had the soup pretty well thrown together, minus the bacon, when the door opened. He turned, remembering days not long past when he'd have jumped at the sound, and wasn't surprised to see Jim's face looking as tired as his. Some of that lifted when his partner caught sight of him, and a welcoming smile spread across the drawn features.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Chief," was the greeting tossed his way as Jim paused by the table to unload the mail, paper, and his jacket before turning to face him.

"Ditto for you, babe." Blair grinned as he ducked to pull a frying pan out. "Hungry?"

"Starved," the bigger man sighed, walking into the kitchen. He pulled Blair tight against him, fingers moving restlessly through dark curls before stilling to cup and tilt Blair's face upward. He winked. "I could eat, too."

"You're such an ass," Blair smacked the solid chest in front of him, then pressed closer. "I missed you today."

"I missed you, too." Instead of the kiss Blair thought he was going to get, Jim just gathered him closer, holding him tightly.

"Jim?" He didn't mind the embrace; far from it, actually. But generally, his partner greeted him with a just a quick hug and a kiss, and sometimes a teasing grope before they settled into whatever they were doing for the evening. This was nice--he liked full-body hugs with Jim. His lover was tense, though. More tense than the usual end-of-the-day--even for a shitty day. "Jim, you okay, babe?"

Ellison hugged him closer. "Yeah, Chief." There was a long pause. "I just--missed you today."

There was a lot _not_ being said in that. "What happened?"

Jim sighed and loosened his grip on Blair, moving back a couple of paces. Sandburg cast him a worried glance, then turned to the refrigerator. He had the bacon open and frying in the pan before Jim had worked up to whatever it was he had to say.

"We had a--there was a...cutting today. The victim--was male, and it looked... almost...ritualized...and I--" His face was pale, and Blair wondered how much color he'd actually had all day.

"When was this, Jim?" He kept his voice soft and even, letting his words form a soothing cadence.

"Early. Before--lunch."

_Shit._ "Why didn't you call me?" Blair turned back to the fridge and drew out two bottles of beer. Jim cast him a grateful look when he handed him one.

"So both of us could freak out?"

"Did you?"

"What, freak out?" Jim waited for Blair's nod of affirmation before answering. "Not--exactly. But I didn't handle it very gracefully, either."

Blair gripped the edge of the counter for a moment, remembering his reaction to a picture he'd seen while casually thumbing through a first-term anthro text two days ago. It hadn't been at all graceful. _Louise probably thinks I'm a case for the nuthouse._ He raised his eyes to Jim's. "Do you know how many pictures of ritual carvings and markings and such there are in some anthropology books? I can't spend my life hiding from them any more than you can from strange calls. But I wonder sometimes..." his voice trailed off for a moment as his thoughts bounced around, "if we're ever going to be able to look at something like that without memories slapping us in the face like they do."

Jim reached out for him again, and Blair went gratefully into the warm circle of his arms. He rested his head against the strong, solid body, and listened to the deep rumble of Jim's voice.

"I don't know, Chief. I hope so. I know it's going to take time; Emily hasn't missed a chance to remind me--us--of that." Jim paused, then his voice deepened. "But maybe we need to make some new memories."

There was something in the tone of Jim's voice and the hands that were slowly stroking his back that made him shiver inside. "What kind of new memories?" he asked quietly, rubbing his cheek against Jim's chest.

"Whatever kind you want, baby."

He had to smile at that--both the tone and the words. Jim didn't call him by the endearments often, even now. _He_ was the one that used 'babe', and 'lover' and the like. Generally speaking, he was 'Chief', which was an endearment of its own, and that was just fine. But hearing 'baby' never failed to send small waves of tingles moving through him. Blair planted a series of gentle kisses across the flannel of Jim's shirt, breathing out purposefully. It must have been purposeful enough, because Jim shivered lightly.

"Whatever kind I want, hmm? How about what you want, babe?"

Jim shivered again and tilted his head back so they were looking at each other's eyes. Blair felt a rising tide of hunger moving through him at the depth of emotion and desire he saw in Jim's eyes. "Are you ready for that?" he murmured quietly, raising one hand to stroke Jim's cheek.

"I--think so," his lover replied shakily. "At least--I want to try."

More bursts of heat inside him, like little sunspots exploding randomly in the pit of his stomach. "That sounds--nice," he said, voice a little ragged. A deep breath and slow exhale gave him back a little of his control and banished most of the butterflies. "Want to eat, and relax a little bit, first? Maybe shower--?"

"That sounds good," Jim crooned in a tender voice. Strong, warm fingers moved over his face, almost like Jim was Braille-reading him. The fingers passed over his lips and he kissed them, smiling a little when he heard Jim's in-drawn breath. He opened his mouth and flicked his tongue out and over the tip of one finger and the breath turned to a low moan. The low moan turned to a soft whisper when Jim removed his fingers and replaced his mouth, the words warm against Blair's lips. "I love you, Chief."

Then there was no time for thought, no room for wondering, nothing left but Jim's mouth on his. Their world narrowed down to sensation and love and desire and need. Blair opened his mouth for Jim, a low groan rising around them when his lover sucked on his tongue before slipping his own all around the hot, moist interior of Blair's mouth.

Heat, and light and colors all combined into a giant ball of feeling in the pit of his belly and Blair jerked himself forward, tighter against Jim's body, his tongue moving to stroke inside Jim's mouth.  
His partner moaned quietly and pressed his mouth down harder, working to taste every inch of Blair's mouth.

When they finally let go, breaking apart reluctantly, both were flushed and breathing hard. Blair ran a hand down Jim's chest, his eyes dark and hot when he cupped the older man's erection, thumb smoothing over the semi-hard cock. Pale blue eyes dilated until only the thinnest ring of color was visible around the pupil. A low, soft moan rolled out as Jim closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, rubbing himself slowly against Blair's hand. Blair swallowed a moan of his own at the touch and rubbed a little harder, enjoying the look of pleasure spreading over Jim's face. When his lover reached down to cup and rub him, his knees turned to rubber.

"Want you," he moaned in a whispery voice, shifting his hips forward against Jim's hand.

"You feel good, baby," came the ragged answer, a thin hiss through teeth as Jim obviously pushed for control. "You feel so good."

"Yes..." Blair shuddered once, then stilled his hand slowly, until he was just holding Jim. He shifted his head--when had he pressed it against Jim's chest?--and looked at his lover. "Let's do this right, lover. I want you--but not in the kitchen." He managed a strangled approximation of a laugh and sagged against the bigger man. "I want slow and easy in our bed."

Large warm hands released him, only to wrap around him and hold him close, one going to stroke through his hair. "Just like you said--dinner, relax, shower. Sorry, Chief--didn't mean to get carried away--"

"Hey, man, I groped you first." Blair managed to inject some humor into his words and sighed in relief when a chuckled rumbled up from Jim.

"Yeah, you did, didn't you." Another rumble of laughter, and Blair relaxed a little more. The atmosphere was charged and a little tense, but it was a different sort of tension this time: it was the tension of anticipation.

"Lemme finish the soup, and we can eat... Wanna shower together?" When Jim released him Blair turned and leered at his partner, sending a visible shiver through the other man.

"Think we'd actually get anything washed?" Now came the familiar grope, before Jim headed back into the living area.

"Depends." Blair raised an eyebrow.

"On?"

"On how bad you wanted to get clean, versus how bad you wanted to get down and dirty."

"Guess we better shower separately then. Down and dirty is at the top of my list right now." Jim leered at him and Blair felt his breath leave his body in a *whoosh*.

"Hold that thought, big guy," he said in a shaky voice. Jim grinned knowingly at him.

* * *

Jim started a fire, then set the table while Blair finished the soup and heated some French bread he found in the freezer. Although mid-spring it was still chilly out, and both men agreed this was a perfect night for dancing flames and wood smoke scents.

It didn't take long to eat dinner, though they tried not to hurry. In some respects, Blair considered, watching Jim eat a second bowl of soup, they were dragging their feet. Both of them wanted this; both of them needed this. And both of them were scared of it for the same reasons.

In the eight months since they'd been kidnapped, sex had been limited to kissing and rubbing, and more recently hand jobs and the occasional blowjob. Blair felt his whole body warm with the memory of two nights ago, when Jim had sucked him dry, rendering him unable to remember even his name for a few minutes.

_We're ready for this; I think._ But even being ready for it didn't mean it wasn't a little scary. There were so many factors involved, so much to consider. Or was there? Maybe it was time to just let everything go for a while, and pretend it was just the two of them. Just Jim and Blair, with no past history, nothing that had come between them before. They couldn't, obviously, totally ignore what had happened, or the fact that they'd had sex. But maybe they could use this as the jumping off point for the new beginning of their relationship. Or was that too close to denial? What was Jim thinking? He looked so calm, sitting there eating his soup.

"Are you scared?" he blurted, eyes widening when he realized he was voicing his thoughts out loud.

Jim met his gaze for a moment, then lowered his eyes to his lap, fidgeting. "Yeah," he said finally. "I still worry about--y'know. I don't want to hurt you."

Blair took a deep breath, willing his heart to calm down. "I don't think you will," he said softly.

"Blair, we both know it was painful for you before--and I did take my time, as much as I was able, that first time."

"We also know we didn't have anything resembling lubrication, other than spit and a little oil that was more for humiliation than anything, and we were tense as shit."

"What, and we're not, now?" Jim smiled, then shook his head. "I don't know about you, partner, but if I get any more tense, you'll be able to shatter me into pieces with one blow."

"Then maybe we should stop talking and start doing." Blair's eyes were almost defiant, blazing heat. He shrugged at Jim's raised eyebrow. "I want you, man. I want you to hold me and make love to me. I want us to fuck like we're rutting. I want to savor you and devour you..." He broke off, face a little red. "All of it," he continued in a whisper, feeling the tremors of heat moving through him. "All of it, all the time, any time we want. No more being afraid, no more being tense. Just us, able to do what we want."

"I want that too," Jim began, his own voice huskier than usual. "God, do I want that."

"Then let's do it, Jim. No more talking or wasting time. Let's take a shower, get relaxed, and let it happen. I'm tired of waiting."

* * *

_Funny,_ Blair mused, laying back on the bed. _I used to picture it like this, kind of. Just without all the other stuff that came before now_. Of course, if he were honest, he'd also never really pictured getting to this point. He just hadn't been able to see he and Jim together--no matter how bad he'd wanted it. _I guess if I'm counting blessings, I have to count what happened, in a way, because it let Jim and I see that we wanted the same thing--each other. Man, what a thought!_ He shifted a little uneasily, not certain it felt right to look at any of it as good--but unable to deny it, either. A soft sound on the steps caught his attention and he turned his head, his breath catching in his throat.

Jim stood there, totally nude, body rippling and shimmering in the glow from downstairs. It was intensified by the candles on the dresser that Blair had lit again, hoping to ease the atmosphere a little. It was a strong, beautiful, powerful body, and it made his heart ache to see it. It made other parts of him ache as well, when he looked at the thick, half-formed erection. He raised his eyes slowly to meet Jim's, and gave him a hot, loving smile, purposefully licking his lips slowly.

It had the desire effect; Jim gave a small gasp then moved off the landing over to their bed. "You're...incredible," he said roughly, staring down at the smaller man. Blair shivered at the heat reflecting out at him, imagining it loosed on him. He sat up slowly, crossing his legs under him, warmth moving through him more intensely when Jim watched the movement of his cock, swaying and bobbing. The mattress dipped when Jim settled next to him, laying on his side, propped on an elbow.

Blair drew a gentle hand down the side of the muscular body. "You're not too shabby yourself, lover," he said thickly, watching the way gooseflesh rose where his hand had touched. "I could touch you forever and never get tired of it."

"I'd let you." There was a tremble in Jim's voice, and Blair stroked his hand up to rub a finger over soft, narrow lips.

"Feels good," Blair said softly. "Doesn't it. To be able to touch...to fill the most basic need all human have."

Jim kissed the tip of his finger, then opened his mouth, his tongue wrapping gently around the digit. "Mmmm." He suckled for a moment, releasing Blair slowly. "Yeah, feels good," he echoed, voice tight and hot. His eyes matched his voice, and Blair grew dizzy looking into them, at the promise held there.

He stroked his hand down again, smoothing slowly down the length of Jim's neck, rubbing his thumb lazily over the pounding pulse in the hollow before leaning forward to press a moist kiss there. He let his mouth wander lower, shifting as he needed so he could keep from losing contact with the bigger man. A low cry and a startled jerk rose from Jim when Blair licked slowly around the nipple closest to him, running his tongue languidly over the small bud. He drew back to blow a stream of air across it, smiling when it tightened for him. "Like that?"

Jim's answer was a low gasp. "Oh, yeah. C'mere, baby." He reached for the smaller man, smiling when Blair shifted and cuddled close to him, their bodies rubbing against each other.

Blair steadied himself against Jim, holding on to a hard biceps, his fingers still stroking and kneading. He caught the tremor moving through Jim's body and frowned, then leaned close and licked Jim's ear before whispering, "You okay, lover?"

"Just--scared, a little," was the breathless reply. "You feel so good, Chief...I could lose myself in you forever. I want to. Bury myself deep, never come out again."

Blair pushed Jim over on to his back and straddled the broad chest, reaching down to rub and stroke the tight pectorals, easing his fingers slowly toward taut nipples. "Listen to me, Jim." He waited until Jim made eye contact with him. "I trust you, man. Totally, implicitly. We _both_ know why you--hurt me--before. It's okay, now, though. There are no drugs. No one who wants you to make me scream. No one who _wants_ you to hurt me. Any screaming I do is going to be from pure pleasure, when you join us together. And I want that, Jim." He reached one hand out to snag one of Jim's, settling it over his erection, stroking himself with Jim's hand. "This is how much I want that, baby. I won't lie and say I'm not scared, too, because we both know I am. But I want you...I want us to be one again." His fingers danced lightly over Jim's nipples, and he shivered when the bigger man groaned. "Only if you want to, Jim. No one's going to be forced here. We do it because we both want to."

Jim struggled to push himself up against the pillows, then slid Blair back until the younger man's ass was resting against the tip of Jim's cock. "I want it," he whispered hoarsely. His body surged against Blair's, pulling a heart-felt groan from both men. "That's how much," he whispered again. "I could come right now, just this close to you."

"Save it, big guy. I want it inside me." Blair leaned forward to capture Jim's mouth with his, his tongue probing a little more roughly at soft lips, demanding entrance that Jim willingly opened to give.

They began to move more deliberately against each other, hips shifting and bucking in an obvious rhythm. Blair wiggled his ass on every down stroke, feeling Jim's groans and grunts move through him through their kiss. The large hand still stroking his cock tightened, moving a little faster. He was leaking now, and Jim would rub a thumb over the top every so often, spreading the warm liquid to smooth his way. Jim's cock was leaving damp trails over his ass where it rubbed, and Blair shivered, imagining that heat and wet deep inside him, filling him full. He groaned into Jim's mouth, picturing it, remembering it. Time had blunted the memories of pain; he remembered the pleasure as well, and wanted that. Needed that.

"Please," he moaned quietly, his breath filling Jim's mouth, the word echoing around them. "Please, Jim. Fuck me...love me...be inside me. I'm aching for you, baby."

The large body under him tensed, but didn't pull away. After a measured span of heartbeats, Jim relaxed, then let go of Blair's cock. "Yes," he hissed quietly. "Turn around, Chief."

"Wha--?" He blinked, not sure he was understanding Jim's instruction.

"Turn around, baby. Bring your ass around...give me access. I'm gonna taste you, Blair. Get you wet...open you."

_Ohmygod._ A current of electricity sizzled through him, and for a moment Blair couldn't move. Physically wasn't capable. He shuddered, then shifted slowly, carefully, until he was facing Jim's feet, his ass toward his lover. He shuddered again when large, warm hands came up to cup his cheeks, the thumbs smoothing lovingly over his flesh. A low soft groan reached his ears when those hands parted him, and he turned his head back, a question on his lips. "Jim?"

"You're so beautiful, Blair. Open, trusting. Wanting me." A warm, wet trail snaked down one cheek toward the crevice between, flirting with the shadowy edge. Blair groaned and shuddered, his fingers digging into the blankets. Warm breath touched him, and then warmer wet, sliding down the cleft of his ass to stroke over and around the small bud that opened into his body.

"Jim--" _Oh, man, you're killing me here, babe. Ohhhgod...that's my...and your..._ He had a brief, vague memory of the first, last and only time Jim had rimmed him; the night he'd given him pleasure like he'd never know, with the most thorough blowjob he'd ever experienced. Jim's tongue was sweeping over him now, lapping at him. He groaned and arched back hungrily against the mouth that was trying to devour him. "Yesss, oh, baby...oh, God..."

"That's it, baby, open for me." Jim moved his mouth lower, sucking and licking at the soft skin of the perineum, then mouthing each ball that was hanging so temptingly before him. Blair jerked and gave a soft shriek when Jim took the first hot, swollen oval into his mouth, sucking intently, his tongue running over the soft wrinkled skin. He moved to the other and repeated his actions, hands shifting to Blair's thighs to hold him steady as the younger man writhed and wiggled against him.

Their groans and whimpers mixed together as Jim sucked and licked and tasted, and Blair reacted to the stimuli. He stretched himself out enough to run his tongue over the head of Jim's cock, his stomach clenching with need when a low, hungry growl rose around them. He answered with his own when Jim moved back up to his opening and placed a hot, probing kiss directly over it, his tongue snaking into the tight passage.

"Yes! God, Jim..." The words were gasped, then lost in moans when Jim's tongue started moving in and out slowly, pausing between thrusts to slide out and lick and lap at the soft ridges of skin that made up the puckered opening.

"Oh, yeah, baby." Jim's voice was thick and hot. He pushed his hips upward, toward Blair's mouth, at the same time he pushed his tongue deeply into the smaller man. Quiet, breathy moans and whispers filled the air around them; wet, lush sounds of flesh meeting flesh. "You're so good," Jim whispered harshly, dragging his mouth away from the heated velvet that was the inside of Blair's body. He dropped hot kisses all over the upturned cheeks, spreading his fingers over one and kneading while reaching toward the nightstand, and the small bottle of baby oil Blair had set there earlier. "Taste...smell...it's like rich musk, Blair. I could drown in it."

Jim was panting, Blair noted. They both were. Fiercely aroused, deeply in love, horribly scared, but determined to be together, to do this. He gasped, then stiffened, when a slick finger rubbed over his pucker then slid inside slowly, Jim's other hand caressing him gently while his lover made quiet, soothing noises and whispers. _It's just a finger. It's just Jim's finger. He's loving you...touching you and loving you, giving you pleasure. Don't be an idiot, Sandburg, you're okay..._

"Blair? You okay, baby?" Jim's anxious voice cut through the thoughts swirling in his head, and Blair realized he was still holding himself stiffly. He blew out a long, deep breath and relaxed, leaning back into the warmth of the man touching him.

"Fine...just...talk to me...no, face me. Let me move, Jim...I need to see your face.."

Jim shifted himself and helped Blair turn, taking care to stroke the younger man gently, touching him everywhere in an arousing, soothing manner. "Sorry, Chief...I didn't even think..."

"Shhh." Blair leaned down and kissed Jim, rubbing himself over the bigger man. "S'okay, man. Just for a minute--love me, Jim. Give me those new memories."

"Ahh, Chief." Large hands cupped his face and drew him down for a long kiss that left him even more breathless and aching, the world spinning dizzily around him. Then Jim was pressing the baby oil into his hand, their fingers stroking each other's. "Get me ready for you," was the husky command, light blue eyes dilated with hunger. Blair shifted backward, drizzling oil over Jim's still-outstretched hand, and into his own palm.

They gasped as one as Jim's fingers sought Blair's opening at the same Blair stroked his slick palm down the heated shaft standing at attention in front of him. Jim's flesh was so hot, so--_alive_\--in his palm; he smoothed oil over it, rubbing with deliberate strokes, grinning when Jim arched his head and thrust into his touch, eyes closed to drown in the sensation. And there were those incredible fingers probing and pushing against him, entering him, teasing him, loving him. He moaned and moved back against them, shuddering when two entered his body and a hoarse, quiet voice said, "Ride, baby."

He eased up on stroking Jim's cock and settle more fully onto the hand that was supporting him, letting his weight push him down. The fingers felt good as he rocked slowly, but it wasn't enough. He shook his head and shifted forward, a single word hot on his lips. "You."

"Blair--"

"I need _you_, Jim. I want you. Please, lover--don't make me beg."

"No," Jim whispered on a hot, breathy sigh. "Never that. C'mere, Chief." Blair watched as his lover grasped his slick cock, then helped him shift over it. "You control it, baby. As fast or slow as you need it--stop if you need to--anything you need." The words had a tight edge of control running through them, offset by a thread of need.

"Yes," he agreed, voice low. He sat back, feeling Jim's cock nudge his opening, and blew out a slow breath to relax. They groaned as one when the thick, hard flesh breached him, pushing the muscles open for entry. For a moment Blair froze as the sharp sting of flesh unused to stretching moved through him, then he closed his eyes and rocked down, taking his lover further into his body, a low cry pulled from him. "Good--oh, Jim, so good..."

A sob answered him, and Blair opened his eyes to see Jim's eyes tightly closed, face pulled into an expression of pleasure/pain. Sweat beaded the narrow forehead, one drop sliding crazily down the side of Jim's head. "Blair--God..." Jim's hands moved, from holding himself steady for Blair to cupping rounded, muscular as cheeks, kneading them and holding them open and apart to intensify the sensations moving through both of them.

The hunger in Jim's voice touched a chord deep inside the younger man, and he took a deep breath then rocked all the way down, groaning when his body shifted, opening fully for the thick cock impaling him. He shuddered and shivered, the feelings intensifying when Jim cried out wordlessly, grasping his hips roughly. His own voice answered, hoarse with need, with a hunger he hadn't realized before. There had been love in what they'd done before, because the love between them was too strong to be denied. But that had been something else; this was making love. However rough and hard or soft and easy it might be between them, it was making love. Blair shifted himself carefully, groaning when his body throbbed around the one inside him, and pressed his open mouth to Jim's. They joined fully, tongues moving softly in time as their bodies started rocking together.

It was pain, and not pain; pleasure, and something never before experienced. A feeling so deep, so intense, mere flesh couldn't contain it. They lost themselves in each other while time and the world around them ceased to exist. Bodies moving slowly, awkwardly, then more in sync, more sensuously as they grew used to this, to the feelings generated within them. Hands stroked and pinched, nipples standing up hard and tight. Breathing was fast and rough, quickening further with each downstroke, with each slow thrust upward.

Blair was hot and tight, the oil slicking them both almost unbearably sensual. Jim groaned and thrust upward gently as his body tried to communicate its need for _more_. Blair moaned when the cock impaling him throbbed within him and rocked down harder, trying to answer that need. He jerked, startled, when a hot hand closed over his own cock, sending shockwaves through him from both ends.

"Come with me," Jim growled softly, his eyes open and hot. There was such love, such need reflected in there. Blair felt his body tighten around Jim, pulling him in deeper.

"Yes," he agreed hoarsely, soft whimpers escaping as the hand moved faster, meeting each thrust forward he gave. Unceasing, cyclical; push down, slide up, thrust forward; their bodies moving faster and harder now, as the hunger spun out of control. He could feel Jim's fingers digging into his hip, and panted as his body stiffened; not out of fear this time, but need for release. Blair closed his eyes and squeezed himself around Jim, shuddering with satisfaction at the hot, needy growl that rose from his lover. "Come inside--Jim, please...now...gonna--oh...God!"

"Yesss--Oh!" Jim thrust up hard, shaking them both. Their bodies clenched around each other, releasing hot spurts of fluid both within and without. Blair cried out as Jim's seed flooded him, sending heat to all recesses of his body; Jim cried out when Blair's juices covered his belly and chest, anointing them. Blair's first orgasm as they made love, fully joined. The younger man threw his head back, slamming himself down onto Jim, squeezing him with all he had.

"Feels--good--" he panted roughly, eyes still shut tight. Jim's answer was unintelligible, lost amongst the moans and cries. They held that frozen position for a long, long moment as Jim emptied himself fully into Blair, and Blair's release spattered across them.

Blair slid forward, falling against Jim's chest, body going lax with satisfaction and satiation. Jim cradled his lover close, stroking gentle fingers through curls now damp with sweat. Their bodies continued to twitch and shiver against each other as tiny aftershocks of reaction moved through them. Blair sighed and cuddled closer, nuzzling into Jim's neck.

"I love you," Jim offered quietly, his voice hesitant.

"Love you too," Blair said softly. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you," he replied, voice gruff. "You didn't have to--"

Fingers covered his lips. "Neither one of us _had_ to," Blair responded slowly. "We both wanted--and needed--to do this. You gave of yourself, I gave of myself. _Together_, Jim. Not like before, when we didn't have a choice. Never regret our loving, babe. I'll tell you if it hurts, or if I don't want it. I hope you'll do the same." He shifted to look at Jim, eyes regarding the other man seriously. Jim nodded.

"How'd you get so smart?" he asked quietly, when Blair removed his fingers.

"Not so s--smart," Blair said around a yawn. "Just love you." He rolled off Jim, onto his side, tugging his lover with him. "Take a nap?" He asked, voice sleepy.

Jim nodded, stroking his fingers slowly up and down Blair's back. "Go to sleep, baby. I've got you."

"You--sleep too," Blair's voice was softer, full of yawns and sighs. "Gonna--need your--strength later..."

Jim's grin was the last thing he saw as his eyes slid shut.

* * *

_There are few things._ Jim mused, _that the body feels as completely, as after making love._ He stretched, his body shuddering with the movements, and smiled when the smaller body curled around his shifted fitfully, a tiny whimper of disapproval coming from somewhere beneath the mound of blankets covering it.

They'd napped for a while last night, then soft, wet kisses had woke him, hot and hard and hungry. He'd made love to Blair again, taking him, this time at his partner's insistence, with Blair on his back so they could kiss and caress. It had been so hot, so loving. And when the world spun crazily out of control for a moment, then crashed around him, he'd been okay. Mostly. Blair had clung to him, talking and whispering, easing him through it. They'd guided and supported each other, both recognizing the scars that were there, and the wounds yet healing.

And then Blair took him. Not fully accustomed to male sex, his lover had been a little clumsy, a little awkward. But it had felt so good to offer himself like that; not out of guilt or misguided feelings, but because he wanted to--because he loved Blair. It had been a while--a long while, he snorted now--since he'd bottomed for anyone, but even the lingering soreness now wasn't anything more than a mild discomfort. He was aware of it, but a warm shower would soothe any remaining aches away.

_We still have a ways to go. We're not going to be miraculously 'okay', just because we made love last night. I know I'm probably always going to be a little skittish; I don't want to hurt him again, ever, not for anything. But God, it felt so good._ "Thank you," he breathed quietly, the words barely spoken, more sighed.

The blankets heaved then, and Blair's head emerged, hair tousled and tangled from sex and sweat and sleep. "Man, can't a guy sleep in, anymore?"

"Not on a beautiful day like this," Jim's voice was rich with love and laughter as he took in his lover. "You should see yourself, Sandburg." He snickered softly, then groaned, eyes widening when Blair pushed the blankets back and sat up fully. There was a red-purple bruise on his partner's shoulder. "When--?" He stroked a finger over it, eyes dark with sadness. Blair grabbed his hand and kissed the fingers.

"The second time," he said softly, sending his own fingers to touch Jim's neck. "And you have its mate right here." A slow, playful smile moved over his lips, stretching the wide, generous mouth, sending sparks skittering through Jim's body as he recalled what all that mouth could do. "Don't guilt, Jim. We marked each other, man. I wanted it--something I could look at in the mirror, feel stinging a little bit, and remember."

"Why?" His fingers hadn't ceased their restless motion.

Blair shrugged. "Just because. I don't have anything beyond that to offer, man. I just wanted you to mark me." His eyes narrowed as he pinned Jim with his dark gaze. "You don't remember?"

"I--sort of. Things--details--are a little hazy in some spots," he admitted slowly.

"Don't guilt, and _don't_ blank stuff out, man." Blair's voice was insistent. "If something makes you uncomfortable, say so. You told me to tell you; I expect the same from you." He held Jim's eyes with his own, shaking his head. "We have a lot to work through, lover. It's never gonna get better if we hide stuff from each other, okay?"

"I'll--try," Jim said quietly, a catch in his voice. "I can't make promises, Sandburg, but I'll do my best."

"That's all I ask," Blair leaned toward Jim, letting his lips brush against the other's. It was a sweet, all-too-brief kiss. "I love you, man."

"I love you, Sandburg." Jim returned the kiss, pressing a little harder, then releasing his partner momentarily to stare into his eyes. Something sparked within him at the light he saw there, and he shuddered in response, drawing close again, pulling Blair slowly toward him. "I want you, baby. Over and over again, until we're so drained we can't move, can't think, can't do anything but lie here and hold each other."

Blair shivered visibly. "Sounds like a plan to me," his voice cracked on the last word and he grinned sheepishly, the heat in his eyes sending frissons of the same curling through Ellison's body.

"I hope so, Chief." Jim leaned close and nuzzled his lips over Blair's, taking time to explore the warm, generous mouth carefully. He licked lips that were still swollen from last night, drawing his tongue slowly across the bottom one, noting the changes and variations in texture and taste from one spot to the next. Blair moaned softly when he drew it into his mouth to suckle momentarily. When the younger man moaned again Jim released the captured lip and turned his attention to the other one, smiling when Blair's mouth opened for him, inviting him in. "Wanton, aren't you." His voice was deep with hunger, full of his love for this man.

"Yes." The word was whispered so low, so quietly, Jim almost missed it, concentrating as he was on the myriad of tastes exploding through him. When it registered, desire burst through him, warming him from head to toe.

"What do you want?" He murmured very low, licking at the corners of Blair's mouth. A lush, full mouth that trembled under his touch at the question.

"Want you to make love to me," Blair's voice was a thick whisper, barely breath against his cheek. "Taste me--everywhere, Jim. Fill your senses with me, and let me feel you doing it."

_Fill your senses with me._ Ellison felt his own body tremble with the force of the feelings moving through him. So much, too much, not enough. He shuddered and pressed Blair back against the bed, breathing in deeply, scenting the younger man thoroughly. "Mine," he said raggedly, running his tongue over where he'd just breathed, adding taste to the mixture. Blair smelled salty and a little bitter, with a deep earthy, musky scent permeating him. The taste was just as good, exploding full and rich across his taste buds.

"Yours," Blair moaned in agreement, relaxing himself against the pillows, arms and legs sprawling invitingly.

Jim smiled against the warm flesh of Blair's neck, then lapped delicately at it. He jiggled his tongue over the small hollow in the younger man's throat, a low vibrating noise tickling him. "Touch me," he asked hoarsely. "Touch me while I touch you."

Strong, slender hands rose to glide up and down his arms, darting and caressing restlessly. Fingers edged toward his chest, sliding over his nipples that were taut and aching just from the nearness of that touch. "Like that?" The quiet voice hissed in pleasure when he closed his teeth very gently over Blair's prominent Adam's apple, nibbling then suckling the hard protrusion before moving downward.

"Oh yeah, baby. Just like that. God, Blair--" He hissed in a breath of his own when those clever fingers plucked at his aching nubs, and found his teeth closing over pale skin. Jesus, but Blair tasted good. He could eat him whole, devour him. He suckled a little harder at the pulse point his mouth was covering, his own body throbbing wildly in time to the pulse beating against his tongue. There was so much heat here, so much vibrancy and life! He could feel it reaching through him, touching all parts of him. A low whimper that raised the hair on the back of his neck sounded around them, and Sandburg writhed beneath him. Jim shuddered and let the warmth go, pulling back far enough to see the half-dollar sized red mark blossoming on the pale throat. He touched his tongue to it gingerly; it was warm, but not fiery hot like he expected. Blair whimpered again, and the fingers pulling and teasing his nipples tightened, drawing a gasp from him.

"More," his lover's husky voice begged, as Blair ran his hands down Jim's body as far as he could reach. Ellison shifted over him, giving him more access, then groaned harshly when Blair's fingers cupped and fondled his throbbing erection. "I love how you feel in my hand." Hot words; hotter voice. Jim shuddered again as aural input kicked his arousal higher.

"I love how your hand _feels_," Jim growled softly, licking around a tight nipple before scoring it gently with his teeth. "Love how all of you feels; touching me, under me--all of it, Blair." He gave up trying to talk then and covered the hard bud with his mouth. Heat exploded through him as the tender bit of flesh throbbed inside his mouth, beating against his tongue. Jim closed his eyes to suckle, seeing colors dancing against the insides of his eyelids, swirling in hot and cool, bright and dark. The colors intensified when the hand cupping him squeezed lightly, and one of Blair's thumbs smoothed over the head of his cock, smearing the drops of moisture that had risen there. He let one hand wander down between Blair's legs, stroking and rubbing, matching the strokes on his own raging erection.

"Please," the younger man breathed, drawing his legs up, splaying them open. "Please, touch me lover..."

Jim shuddered, then raised his hand to Blair's mouth. "Suck, baby. Make 'em wet." The mouth that engulfed his fingers was hot and wet and his cock throbbed, wanting it there. Blair shivered beneath him, working his fingers, wetting them. Jim could feel the heat in the lean body rising; wondered if his rose as proportionately. He withdrew his fingers and stroked them lightly down balls drawn up tightly, and over the sensitive perineum. When he stroked gently over the small throbbing pucker, Blair winced, and he stilled his hand immediately. "Blair?" There was no response, save a soft whimper, and Jim sighed. "Baby, we're not gonna do it if you're sore. It's okay--we'll find another way to pleasure each other."

"I want to," Blair insisted stubbornly, his body tensing beneath Jim's. "I want you, Jim."

"Sandburg," Jim sat back with an exasperated sigh, his hand still stroking lightly over the entrance to Blair's body. He looked down, not surprised to see the small hole an angry red. The folds of tissue were loose, yes, but irritated as well. "Baby, you can still _have_ me--I don't have to penetrate you for us to feel good. C'mon, Chief--think about the last few months!"

"I know," Blair said quietly. "But God, Jim--it feels so good, to have you inside me, to know--to know we're doing it because we want to--"

Jim felt his heart do a little roll and thump in his chest and he shifted onto his side, drawing Blair with him, holding him close. He kissed warm, swollen lips, loving the way they softened under his. His other hand nudged Blair's thighs apart again, and he circled the small opening once before gently pushing against it. Blair flinched and gasped, his body tightening. "Ow!"

"My point," the bigger man said dryly, softening his tone with another gentle kiss. He moved his hand up to Blair's cock, stroking to firm the erection that had softened somewhat. "Touch me, Blair. Stroke me while I stroke you...let's feel good together. Please, baby. I love loving you--but I'm _not_ going to hurt you."

For a half a second he was afraid Blair was going to press the issue, then the indigo eyes half-closed, and a sultry smile moved over the expressive mouth. Heat filled him, covered him, touched him as Blair's hand grasped him, moving slowly, stroking in time with his caresses. "Then make me feel _good_." Blair hissed the words in a sensual whisper, moving his head closer to breath his words over Jim's lips. Ellison's lips burned from that barest of touches, and he moved his own head so Blair's lips would be on his. He groaned low in his chest when Blair's tongue lapped at his lips, then slide between them, teasing his own tongue.

Their bodies shifted and rubbed together as they stroked each other, fever mounting in both men. Jim growled with hunger and frustration when he couldn't get the friction he wanted. Blair silenced him with a long, slow kiss that only fueled the flames, then pushed against the bigger man's chest, urging him to his back. He slid one leg over, and Jim winced with the heat that echoed around them. Then Blair was lying on top of him, rubbing harder and faster, encouraging Jim's upward rub-and-thrust movements with groans of approval.

"Oh, God, you feel...Shit, I love you against me, Chief," he surprised himself with the hoarse whisper, and Jim wrapped one arm tightly around Blair to hold him closer. His other he let play in the soft hair sprinkled generously over Blair's chest, teasing the tiny hard nubs he found there. He moved his mouth up to suck on an earlobe, absently noting the continued lack of earrings.

"Yes...good. It's good...oh YEAH, man...oh, God..." Blair shuddered violently when Jim tongued his ear, his own fingers rubbing and pinching tight nipples. He smiled against Jim's neck when the bigger man groaned and arched.

He was lost in a nearly overwhelming sea of sensation, from the fingers pulling at his nipples to his cock that was throbbing and leaking against the hard and soft body rubbing over him. Fire consumed him; ice trickled over him. Heat and wet covered his mouth, then soft needy sounds rose around him at the same time that an explosion of that heat and wet moved over him, coating his stomach and chest. He opened his fuzzy, dilated eyes, seeing his lover's face contorted into a grimace of pleasure. Long curls flew around them as Blair shifted with the energy moving through him... then Jim lost track of it all as his own orgasm slammed into him, catching him hard. He thought he'd seen colors before--now they were all around him, swirling and careening dizzily, all the input mixing and meshing. Then he was howling his pleasure, his head arched backward as he thrust up against the warm body covering him, shuddering when Blair pushed back, the dampness from his own orgasm easing the way for Jim's.

"Jesus...Christ..." he panted, when he could draw enough breath to do that. Blair lay limp on top of him, only mild tremors giving any indication that he was still alive. They rested for several minutes, bodies shaking and quivering, before sensory input started to tease at Ellison again.

His sense of smell--the warm semen coating both of them--sent small tingles of arousal through him; not enough to fuel his hunger, but enough to give him a thrill for wanting it. He reached one hand down, insinuating it between their bodies, and dragged a finger through the cooling puddle on his stomach. Blair shifted and moaned when his eyes opened in time to see Jim suck the finger into his mouth.

"You look like a big cat," he whispered quietly. Jim was lapping at his finger now with long strokes of his tongue, taking up more of the thick, viscous liquid as was needed.

"A cat to the cream," Jim said, a sly smile curving his lips. He felt Blair's shiver and grinned, this time in gentle teasing. "It's okay, baby. No more for now. Think you've had enough?"

"Check with me in an hour, see if I'm still alive. If I am, the answer is no." Blair's own smile was teasing as he moved off the bigger man.

"Why wouldn't you still be alive?"

"Drained away, dehydrated to a mere shell of my former self?" Bright blue eyes twinkled.

"Huh. You look pretty healthy to me, Chief." Jim reached up to tuck a few stray strands of hair back, and gently touched the long-healed lobe. "Would you--wear another?"

"I might, someday." Blair's hand reached up to still Jim's, drawing it down. "I can't--think about that, without remembering...the absolute _terror_ I felt, when they worked that spell. I don't know, man. I don't know if I can."

"Then you don't need to." In his mind Jim pictured the tiny box in his shirt drawer, two small gold hoops nestled snugly in white cotton. Now wasn't the time. But it would come, eventually. And when it was here, and Blair was ready, he would give them to him. He sighed, then smiled, drawing a finger across Blair's mouth. "Let's shower...get something to eat, then let's get out of here for a while. Go do something."

"Sounds like a plan." Blair nodded, then shifted slowly off the bed, watching as Jim did the same. The older man watched him smile as he gestured toward the windows. "It's sunny out. Looks like it'll be a nice day."

Jim's eyes followed Blair's movements, taking in the gesture toward the sun-drenched windows, then he nodded, joining his partner at the landing. "I think they'll all be sunny--sunnier, anyway."

"There'll be dark spots," Blair cautioned, his hand gripping Jim's.

"I know. But we can handle them." Even as recently as yesterday his voice wouldn't have held this much confidence. Blair's smile showed him how right he was.

"You bet we can."

The look that passed between them spoke of light and love, and vanquished shadows as they turned into the sunlight and headed down the stairs.

* * *

~~Finis~~


End file.
